


All Through the Night

by starcatcher_breathtaker



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Slow Burn, alina is no longer a doormat, at first were just going to be tweaking some scenes from the books, except not sorry because this just makes more sense for everyone involved, honestly this is how the books shouldve been, how can you not love nikolai, i write too much dialogue please send help, nikolai is the best, nikolina finally gets respect, no editing we die like men, ruin and rising spoliers, siege and storm spoilers, sorry to zoyalai fans, the trilogy rewritten with nikolina, tolya finally gets the screen time he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcatcher_breathtaker/pseuds/starcatcher_breathtaker
Summary: Nikolai and Alina are fighting to stop the sun from setting on Ravka.But it is only in the darkest night that he will need her most.Or, a Nikolina stan rewrites the Grisha trilogy.
Relationships: Mal Oretsev & Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky & Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky/Mal Oretsev, there are others in the background too
Comments: 22
Kudos: 66





	1. Siege and Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, straight up rewriting the books because Nikolina >>>> literally everything else. I reread Siege and Storm and rewrote all the important scenes that I was changing; assume that the rest of the book occurs as normal. The scenes are not labelled, so I'm listing their context in order below:  
> -the pier scene; after they test the sun dishes on top of the little palace for the first time and everyone is celebrating, Nikolai and Alina sit on the pier by the lake  
> -the fight scene; after the pier scene, Alina goes looking for Mal and Tamar brings her to the stables where Mal is fighting  
> -that one Darkling visit; it takes place immediately after the fight scene  
> -the war meeting scene; it takes place after Alina goes among the pilgrims and has to be rescued by Tolya and Tamar  
> -the birthday dinner; it takes place immediately after the war meeting scene  
> -the chapel scene  
> -when Alina wakes up for the first time after the chapel scene and its fallout  
> -the scene immediately after that where Mal talks to Alina  
> And that's it for the siege and storm scenes! Scenes are separated with asterisks, and I've used ellipses to mark where I've cut out long unchanged sections within a scene.

“I’m a privateer, Alina,” Nikolai said quietly. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

I was suddenly aware of his shoulder resting against mine, the press of his thigh. The air felt warm and smelled sweet with the scent of summer and woodsmoke.

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

“You already kissed me,” I replied with a nervous laugh.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I want to kiss you again,” he amended.

“Oh,” I breathed. His mouth was inches from mine. My heart leapt into a panicked gallop. _This is Nikolai,_ I reminded myself. _Pure calculation._

But his phrasing dredged up words stored at the back of my mind. _The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak._ Maybe this wasn’t a moment of scheming. Maybe we were just a boy and a girl on a pier.

“Why?” I asked, the word scarcely a whisper. 

“Because I want to,” he said.

Then he kissed me.

It was long, and slow. I felt his hand creep into my hair, and I found myself kissing him back. My racing heartbeat slowed, and it was several beats until he broke away. I opened my eyes to see him watching me carefully.

“Alina,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

My heart fell through my chest and plunged into the lake. My hopes — that this time, it was different — were shattered. I knew it was Nikolai, I knew it always came back to politics, but still I felt betrayed. I’d let my heart lead instead of my head.

I sprung to my feet, Nikolai lurching backwards with a pained expression. I turned my head so he couldn’t see the tears I was trying to blink out of my eyes.

“I asked you why,” I said. “That’s not what you told me.”

I snatched up my shoes and escaped down the pier.

***

The crowd surged toward Mal, carrying me with them. Everybody was talking at once. People slapped him on the back, jamming money into his palms. Then Zoya appeared in front of him. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. I saw him go rigid.

A rushing sound filled my ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd.

 _Push her away,_ I begged silently. _Push her away._

And for a moment, I thought he might. But then his arms closed around her, and he kissed her back as the crowd hooted and cheered.

The bottom fell out of my stomach. It was like putting a foot wrong on a frozen creek, the crack of ice, the sudden drop, the knowledge that there was nothing beneath but dark water.

He pulled away from her, grinning, his cheek still bloodied, and that was when his eyes met mine. His face went white.

Zoya followed his gaze and lifted a defiant brow when she saw me.

I turned and began forcing my way back through the crowd. Tamar fell into step beside me.

“Alina,” she said.

“Leave me alone.”

I broke away from her. I had to get outside, had to get away from everyone. Tears were beginning to blur my vision. I wasn’t sure if they were for the kiss or what had gone before it, but I couldn’t let them see. The Sun Summoner didn’t cry, especially over one of her _otkazat’sya_ guards.

I burst from the stables and into the half-light. The air was warm and thick, my breath fast and shallow. I ran from the well-lit path by the paddocks to the birchwood grove. I braced my arms against a tree, closed my eyes, and inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.

The emotions fell away, and I felt a sort of clarity pass over me. The tears subsided.

I had kissed Nikolai only a few hours earlier. So I suppose I couldn’t hold Mal’s kiss with Zoya against him. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him with other girls before. Back when we were in the First Army, he’d kissed dozens of girls, perhaps hundreds, without so much as a passing thought for me. And I really expected that that would change now? Sure, he cared for me now, but how much of that was because other people had started caring about me too?

The clarity began to give way to anger. And it was at that moment that I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Alina,” Mal said.

I looked up at him coolly, then plunged into the woods.

“Damn it, Alina, would you please stop?”

I turned to look back at him.

“The only reason you came here is because you loved me. Now that that’s no longer the case, you might as well leave,” I said.

“But I do love you, Alina,” he pleaded.

“Yes, so much so that you found yourself kissing Zoya.”

“Alina, I didn’t mean —” he sighed, realizing the hole he had been about to dig himself into. He started again. “Alina, I love you, it’s just… I’m not sure it’s you anymore.”

I came to a halt and wheeled to face him, fangs bared.

“This is me, Mal. And just because you prefer the old one doesn’t mean you can bring her back. I’m not yours to change. I’m not your property. You remember back when we were in the First Army? There was nothing stopping you from being with me, nothing at all. And yet you spent your nights with just about every girl who wasn’t me. You want that Alina back? The one who followed you, despite everything you did to me, like a dog who always returns to the master who beats it? You don’t love me, Mal. You want me, and you want a me that no longer exists.”

I held up a hand and let the light come to me, surrounding me in a blazing aura.

“This is who I am, Mal. Not some submissive Fjerdan wife who will do whatever you say. I’m not going to change who I am for your sake. I’m the Sun Summoner, and I’m never letting you take that away from me.”

I turned and let go of the light, then began to walk back towards the Little Palace.

“Alina,” Mal croaked. It sounded like he was starting to cry. My own eyes, by contrast, were gloriously dry.

“Go back to Zoya,” I said, not even turning to face him. “I’m sure she’ll be willing to kiss your tears away.”

I felt like a burden had been lifted from my chest. When I got back to the Darkling’s chambers, I fell asleep with far more ease than I had in a long time.

***

“Alina.”

I woke to the soft brush of Mal’s lips on mine, the barest touch to my temple, my eyelids, my brow. The light from my guttering flame candle on my bedside table glinted off his brown hair as he bent to kiss the curve of my throat.

For a moment, I hesitated, confused, not quite awake. Then that deadly clarity from before returned to me like a wave of cool water. I sat up and shoved him off of me.

“I meant what I said, Mal,” I said, impressed by the edge in my own voice.

But as he fell off the bed, I saw the candlelight flash against his eyes. They weren’t blue. They were quartz gray.

His features melted into shadow and then formed again like a face from the mist. Pale, beautiful, that thick shock of black hair, the perfect sweep of jaw.

“So you’ve finally pushed the tracker aside?” the Darkling said. He let out a short bark of laughter as he got to his feet. “Let me guess, you realized it was never going to work out, that he would always be longing for an Alina without her powers, an Alina that no longer was?”

I felt a chill pass through my spine. I had said almost the same exact words to Mal just a few hours ago. Though I supposed the Darkling didn’t know about Zoya and all the other girls.

“So you’re alone now,” he continued. “And as long as you run, you always will be. There’s no one else like us, Alina. You’ll come back to me, in the end. When the solitude gets to you.”

He placed a hand under my chin and tilted my head to look into his face. He was smiling.

“Like calls to like,” he whispered.

I blinked slowly, my face serene. Then I slapped him.

He stumbled away from me. It had been a solid blow.

“You’ve kidnapped me, threatened harm and death against people I love, and murdered thousands of innocents, if not more,” I said. “Even back before I knew you were capable of those things, you had me cut off from the outside world and had no intentions of letting me leave. It’s a pretty textbook example of an abusive relationship, if you ask me. Oh, and you’re also a monster utterly lacking in a moral compass.”

The Darkling managed to right himself. He still had one hand pressed against his cheek where I had slapped him, but his face now bore an easy grin. He laughed, and my heart was gripped by ice at the sound.

“Soon,” he said. Then he broke into shadows and vanished.

I rose from my bed, shivering despite the heat. The laughter had been ominous, but most of all, it was the weight of his words.

I would always be alone. Nikolai, Mal, the Darkling; I’d brushed all of them off in a matter of hours. Was that really what I wanted?

But I had my friends, didn’t I? Genya was in the Darkling’s clutches, but I still had Tolya and Tamar. One of them would be outside my room now to guard it. Unless it was Mal. But even then, surely we could still be friends, if not lovers? I pulled on my robe and walked into the common room.

It was empty. I was alone.

I could feel terror beginning to claw at my insides. I needed to talk to someone, to anyone, to know that I was not alone. The door to the guards’ quarters was closed. I opened it slowly and summoned a faint beam of light to illuminate the interior.

All three beds were empty.

Panic, fear, and above all loneliness flooded through me. I practically stumbled back to my room. I was not going back to sleep. I might never sleep again. I glanced at the clock on the mantel. Sunrise came early during Belyanoch, but it would be hours before the palace woke.

I dug through the pile of clothes that I’d kept from our journey on the _Volkvolny_ and pulled out a drab brown coat and a long scarf. It was too hot for either, but I didn’t care. I drew the coat on over my nightshift, wrapped the scarf around my head and neck, and tugged on my shoes.

I slipped out into the common room and started to run. I took the doors to the left and hurried through the darkened halls, into the silent grounds.

***

So far today, I’d nearly died and possibly started a riot. Maybe I could set fire to something before breakfast.

I washed my face and changed into my _kefta,_ then hurried to the war room. Mal was waiting there, slumped in a chair, though I hadn’t invited him. He’d changed clothes, but he still looked rumpled and red-eyed. There were fresh bruises on his face from the previous night. He glanced up at me as I entered, saying nothing. He looked away as soon as I turned towards him, but I could see the longing in his eyes. Could we not just be friends again?

...

“You figure it out. Make whatever arrangements you want,” Mal said. He didn’t look at me when he said, “Just tell me when I can leave.”

Before I could raise another objection he was gone.

I turned away, sighing. Behind me, I heard Nikolai murmuring instructions to the twins as they departed. Then his footsteps approached my chair, and he laid his hand on my shoulder. Warring emotions raised goosebumps along my skin at the touch.

“It’s for the best, Alina.”

I turned to look back at him. “I broke up with Mal last night.”

“Oh.” Nikolai blinked. “Well, I suppose that explains a lot.” He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Well, if this means that —”

“If you even so much as say another word of that sentence, I will take whatever ring you offer me and stuff it down your throat.”

He let out a little huff of laughter. “Probably not the wisest move. The Lantsov emerald is big enough that I’d probably choke to death in a most undignified fashion.”

He didn’t take his hand off of my shoulder, though. I was grateful for it. Even if I wasn’t going to marry him, he still cared about me as a friend. The loneliness that had trailed me ever since I had woken finally dissipated.

***

Mal avoided me all afternoon, so I was surprised when he showed up with Tamar to escort me to Nikolai’s birthday dinner. I’d assumed he’d get Tolya to take his place. Maybe he was making amends for missing his previous shift.

I’d given serious thought to not attending the dinner myself, but there didn’t seem to be much point. I couldn’t think of a likely excuse, and my absence would just offend the King and Queen, not to mention Nikolai.

I’d dressed in a light _kefta_ made of shimmering panels of sheer gold silk. The bodice was set with sapphires of deep Summoner’s blue that matched the jewels in my hair.

Mal’s eyes flickered over me as I entered the common room, lingering just a moment too long. It almost made me regret the fine _kefta._ Come to think of it, who was I even wearing it for? Not for Mal, and not for Nikolai, either. That only left myself.

…

Once at the dinner, Mal managed to keep his eyes off of me. The King’s guards were placed at intervals along each wall. I knew Tamar stood somewhere behind me, but Mal was directly across from me, standing at rigid attention, hands behind his back, eyes straight ahead in the blank focus of all anonymous servants. Perhaps I should have felt regret. But all I could notice was how he’d shaved and had his hair trimmed. His uniform was neatly pressed. He looked weary and distant, but he looked like Mal again.

Nothing could have made me happier. I had no doubt he was hurting, but it looked like Nikolai had been right. This was for the best. Perhaps we could go back to being friends.

My spirits lifted, and I managed to participate in the laughably pointless conversations with the various generals and nobility around the table. I made a joke that even Nikolai found funny. A slow smile spread across my face to match the laugher around me. Nikolai gave my hand a squeeze beneath the table.

The one damper on my mood was that the wound at my shoulder had started to itch and pull again. I had to resist the urge to reach up and scratch it. I could only pray that I wouldn’t have a hallucination and make a fool of myself just when I was starting to have a good time.

***

“I don’t need to lie,” said the Darkling. “Alina wants to come with me.”

“She doesn’t want any part of you,” Mal spat.

“No?” the Darkling asked. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight of the chapel. Summoning his shadow army had taken its toll. He was thinner, paler, but somehow the sharp angles of his face had only become more beautiful. “I warned you that your _otkazat’sya_ could never understand you, Alina,” the Darkling said. “And you told me it came true.”

I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. “You… You were there?” I had always assumed the visions of him were just hallucinations. 

“On the Fold. In the palace. Last night.”

I felt relieved that I hadn’t imagined it all. But I knew Mal was probably about to explode. He would almost certainly be imagining the worst as we spoke.

“That isn’t possible,” Mal bit out. He was definitely imagining the worst.

“You have no idea what I can make possible, tracker.”

I shut my eyes.

“Alina —”

“Have you been thinking over what I told you? About being alone?” said the Darkling. “I’ve seen what you truly are, and I’ve never turned away. I never will.”

“You don’t know anything about her,” Mal said fiercely.

“Come with me now, and it all stops — the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed.”

“No,” I said. I’d meant every word I’d said when I’d slapped him. But I hadn’t meant those words for him; I had still thought he was just a vision. I’d needed them to convince myself. And now the part of me that had needed convincing was crying _Yes._

…

“All right,” I whispered.

“Alina, no!” Mal said furiously.

“You’ll let them go?” I asked. “All of them?”

“We need the tracker,” said the Darkling. “For the firebird.”

“He goes free. You can’t have both of us.”

The Darkling paused, then nodded once. I knew he thought he would find a way to claim Mal. Let him believe it. I would never let it happen. No matter what, Mal was still my oldest, dearest friend.

…

Mal shook his head. “This is all wrong.” He was regretting every word, every action, that might have come between us, that might have led to this moment. He was blaming himself for this. “Please, Alina,” he said softly. “Please. This can’t be how it ends.”

I smiled sadly.

“You’re my best friend, Mal,” I whispered through my tears. “No matter what else has happened between us, this has always been true. Always has, and always will be. But I have to do this.”

I stepped back. We were both crying by now, but I did my best to keep smiling, for his sake. Then I turned and walked up the aisle. My steps were sure. Nikolai had promised me a chance to save Ravka, to make amends for all I’d done. He’d tried, but it was the Darkling’s gift to give.

“Alina!” Mal shouted. I heard scuffling behind me and knew Tolya had taken hold of him. “Alina!” his voice was raw white wood, torn from the heart of a tree. I did not turn.

***

I drifted in and out of consciousness. My mouth felt dry and swollen shut. I was pretty sure I’d bitten my tongue. I heard Tamar giving orders.

“Bring the rest of the tunnel down. We need to get as far from here as we possibly can.”

I was scarcely awake, but somehow I knew. I felt it, deep within me.

The Darkling still lived.

I groaned, though I barely made a sound. My voice sounded muffled and wrong to my ears. I had failed. I had intended for us both to be dead. Instead, we were both alive.

“She’s hurting. Should we put her under?” Tamar asked.

“I don't want to risk her heart stopping again,” replied Tolya.

“You should have left me back there,” I rasped. Or at least tried to.

“Leave the passage to the convent open,” Tamar said to someone. “Hopefully, he’ll think we went out there.”

The convent. Sankta Lizabeta. The gardens next to the Gritzki mansion. I couldn’t order my thoughts. I couldn’t make my mouth work. The pain was crowding in on me. I sank into darkness.

***

Mal recovered before I did and limped alongside the litter. He’d been injured when the tunnel collapsed, but the Grisha had restored him. What I had endured, what I had embraced, they had no power to heal.

At some point, we stopped at a cave dripping with rows of stalactites. I’d heard one of my carriers call it the Worm’s Mouth. When they set me down, Mal was there, and with his help, I managed to get into a sitting position, propped against the cave wall. Even that effort left me dizzy, and when he dabbed his sleeve to my nose, I saw that I was bleeding.

…

“You should have told me what you intended to do,” Mal said, his voice raw.

I looked away. “You should have let me finish him,” I said. “You should have let me die.”

“I don’t regret it,” he whispered. I turned to face him again. “You still want to be my friend?” he asked. “After everything that you said?”

I nodded.

He looked down at the ground.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “It’ll be hard. To be only a friend.”

“Mal,” I said, and his gaze met mine. “Do not say ‘only a friend.’ You are my best friend. You mean the world to me. You have been there for me for nearly my whole life, and I will be there for yours. We will still be together. You’ll just be free to kiss Zoya without worrying about me finding out.”

He smiled, but he was crying.

“But I don’t want to kiss Zoya,” he said. “I want to kiss you.”

The words brought me back to an evening on a pier, Nikolai by my side. He had said those words, right before he had kissed me.

He had kissed me then. And now, he was probably dead.

I closed my eyes and suppressed a sob. I didn’t want to send Mal any mixed messages. But all I could see behind her eyelids was Nikolai, the prince, the privateer, the soldier, the politician. The friend. I drew in a ragged breath and opened my eyes.

“Mal,” I said softly. “You are the wind. You need to be free, to blow wherever you wish. I cannot hold on to you, and it would be foolish for me to try. I am no Squaller.” _But Zoya is._

“Go on,” I said. He looked back at me as he stood, blinking away tears. Then he turned and walked in Zoya’s direction.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wondering where the title comes from?  
> 1\. it will make sense later  
> 2\. Ar hyd y nos (all through the night) is a Welsh lullaby that is very near and dear to my Welsh heart
> 
> Anyways this is my first fic so feedback is appreciated. This part is mostly just tying up loose ends so we can start off right in ruin and rising, where we'll see some proper relationship building instead of just destruction.  
> Also, yes, I am having Alina voice my own thoughts about why both Malina and Alarkling are terrible. And yes, I'm acknowledging that Nikolina is problematic as long as Nikolai's only known investment is political, but worry not, this will be addressed, I have a plan.


	2. Ruin and Rising (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got very long very fast. I cut a little bit here and there, but ultimately I had to divide it into two parts... and it was pretty clear what the part break was going to be. Sorry, but y'all knew it was coming.  
> Anyways, it's the same structure as before: I've written out the scenes that I'm changing, but assume that the rest of the book remains the same (with minor changes here and there; I couldn't include every little change or else this would have been completely incomprehensible). Scenes are divided with asterisks, and I'm using ellipses to mark where I'm skipping over parts of a scene that remain unchanged.  
> I've included more of Bardugo's original writing in this one (please don't sue me) partially because cutting it out makes the writing harder to follow, but also partially because it's just too good to leave out. If you're reading a section that seems identical to the original, that's probably because it is. Feel free to skim until you hit a divergence. Also, feel free to straight up skip to like the fourth scene here, which is when Nikolai returns. Everything before that is just background angsting.
> 
> Just as in the previous chapter, scenes are not labelled, so I'm outlining them below in case you need context.  
> -talking to the Apparat right after Alina regains her powers (she's still in the White Cathedral, but armed with the Cut, even the Apparat is scared of her)  
> -planning their departure with the other Grisha; they've agreed to seek out Nikolai by contacting the smuggling station Tolya and Tamar are familiar with, and Alina is reflecting  
> -the scene in the graveyard right after exiting the tunnels from the White Cathedral where Alina summons starlight  
> -Mal is fishing; this is after they make camp while Tamar is contacting the smugglers to try to reach Nikolai; it's followed by the fight with the militia and Nikolai rescuing them  
> -Mal and Alina talking; this is after the scene where Genya faces down the King and Nikolai asks him to abdicate  
> -Nikolai gives Alina the Lantsov emerald; this is after the scenes of Alina cutting off the top of the mountain, letting Sergei go, and planning Mal's expedition for the firebird; immediately before the start of the scene, Alina is pondering merzost and making soldiers of light to fight the nichevo'ya  
> -Alina visiting the Darkling (except I've switched it to be the other way around); this is after the scene where Alina talks to her girl friends about the dresses and the ring from Nikolai  
> -the meteor shower scene; this is after Baghra has told Alina about Morozova and the real story of his "martyrdom"; immediately before the scene, Alina has concluded that Baghra's sister (Morozova's other daughter) was a Sun Summoner and her ancestor, meaning she's related to the Darkling; however this doesn't freak her out as much as it does in the books because things have progressed differently (hence she doesn't look like she's eaten a bug)  
> -the planned departure of Mal's expedition and its interruption by the Darkling's arrival at the Spinning Wheel; this immediately follows the previous scene
> 
> All right, this was a long ass introduction certainly befitting of the even longer ass fic below... Good luck, and I'll see you in the end notes.

I escorted the Apparat to his quarters myself, Mal and Tolya trailing us.

At his door, I said, “In one hour, we’ll lead services together. Tonight, I leave with my Grisha and you’ll sanction our departure.”

“Sol Koroleva,” the Apparat whispered, “I urge you not to return to the surface so soon. The Darkling’s position is not a strong one. The Lantsov boy has few allies —”

“I’m his ally.”

“He abandoned you at the Little Palace.”

“He  _ survived, _ priest. That’s something you should understand.”

Nikolai had intended to get his family and Baghra to safety, then return to the fight. I could only hope he’d succeeded and that the rumors of him wreaking havoc on the northern border were true. He was a prince and privateer, dashing in every sense of the word, with too much charisma to be dead. Even the very word felt wrong in association with him.

“Let them weaken each other, see which way the wind blows —”

“I owe Nikolai Lantsov more than that,” I said. I needed to see him again, to thank him, to help him. Maybe he would even kiss me again. My heart gave a traitorous lurch as I shoved the thought aside. He might have been my friend, but all his proposals of marriage were purely political. He didn’t love me, he wanted me. I’d said something similar to Mal when I’d broken up with him. So why was it so hard to let go of Nikolai?

***

I tried not to think too hard about what it would mean if the smuggling station at Ryevost wasn’t active. How were we supposed to find a prince who didn’t want to be found, and do it while remaining hidden ourselves? If Nikolai was alive, he might be looking for me, or he might have sought alliance elsewhere. For all he knew, I had died in the battle at the Little Palace.

If that were true, I wondered, would he still think about me? Or had even his friendship been political? If I were gone, he would have no reason to care about me, to remember me. The thought hurt, so I tried my best to shove it aside.

***

“Alina,” Mal said softly.

I opened my eyes. The Grisha were staring. “What?”

He took my hands and held them out in front of me, as if we were about to start a dance. “You’re glowing.”

“Oh,” I breathed. My skin was silver, cocooned in starlight. I hadn’t even realized I was summoning. “Oops.”

He dropped my hands and stepped back. For a moment, emotions warred over his face. Then his brow cleared. He wasn’t just letting go of my wrists; he was letting go of me.

…

When Zoya drew level with me, she said, “You know, Starkov, I’m beginning to think you turned your hair white on purpose.”

I flicked a speck of starlight from my wrist, watching it fade. “Yes, Zoya, courting death is an integral part of my beauty regimen.”

She shrugged and cast a glance at Mal. “Well, it’s a little obvious for my taste, but I’d say the whole moon maiden look is working.”

It sounded suspiciously like a compliment, but I could hear the jealousy behind it.

“I wish it didn’t,” I said with a sigh. “I just want to be friends. How do you handle it? You know, the whole being beautiful thing with everyone looking at you all the time.”

She looked at me, and there was some deep recognition in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I couldn’t get them to overlook me even when I tried. So I leaned into it, I embraced it.” For the first time, there was no tension or jealousy or hatred or fear in her eyes when she looked at me. Just… Understanding.

“You asked me, once, back at the Little Palace, to let you know when I was done with him,” I said drily. “Consider this my belated fulfillment of that request.”

She smiled. “So noted, but I don’t think he’s entirely done with you.”

“He’s… healing,” I said. “Just maybe not fast enough for your tastes.” She smiled wryly.

There was a brief pause. I remembered her gripping my hand during the cave-in and how strong she’d stayed throughout it all.

“Thanks,” I said. “For keeping us safe down there. For helping save Sergei and Stigg.”

Even if I hadn’t meant a word of it, the look of shock on her face would have been worth it.

“You’re welcome,” she managed. Then she stuck her perfect nose in the air and added, “But I won’t always be around to save your ass, Sun Summoner.”

I grinned and followed her down the aisle of graves. At least she was predictable.

***

When I reached the creek, Mal was crouching in the shallows, barefoot and bare-chested, his trousers rolled up to his knees. He was watching the water, his expression focused, but at the sound of my approach, he shot to his feet, already lunging for his rifle.

“Just me,” I said, stepping out of the woods.

He relaxed and dropped back down, eyes returning to the creek. “What are you doing out here?”

For a moment I just watched him. He stayed perfectly still, then suddenly, his hands plunged into the stream and emerged with a wriggling fish. He tossed it back. No point holding on to it when we couldn’t risk making a fire to cook it.

I’d seen him catch fish this way at Keramzin, even in winter, when Trivka’s pond froze over. I’d waited on the banks, keeping him company, trying to spot places in the trees where the birds made their nests. And although he was older now, the movement was still the exact same. The memories made me smile.

…

I started toward camp, then remembered I hadn’t told him about the  _ oprichniki _ . I stomped back to the creek. “Mal…,” I began, but the words died on my lips.

He had bent to pick up the canteens. His back was to me.

“What is that?” I said angrily.

He whirled, twisting himself around, but it was too late. He opened his mouth.

Before he could get a word out, I snapped, “If you say ‘nothing,’ I will knock you senseless.”

His mouth clamped shut.

“Turn around,” I ordered.

For a moment, he just stood there. Then he sighed and turned.

A tattoo stretched across his back — something like a compass rose, but much more like a sun, the points reaching from shoulder to shoulder and down his spine.

“Why?” I asked. “Why would you do this?”

He shrugged.

“I have a lot of scars,” he said finally. “This is one I chose.”

I looked closer. There were letters worked into the design.  _ E’ya st rezku. _ I frowned. It looked like ancient Ravkan.

“What does this mean?”

He said nothing.

“Mal —”

“It’s embarrassing.”

And sure enough, I could see a flush spreading over his neck.

“Tell me.”

He hesitated, then cleared his throat and muttered, “I am become a blade.”

_ I am become a blade. _ Was that what he was? This boy whom the Grisha had followed without argument, whose voice stayed steady when the earth caved in around us, who’d told me I would be a queen? He had been so much like his old self when he was fishing. But now, I could no longer see the resemblance.

“Could be worse,” I said. “I mean, if it said ‘Kick me’ or ‘I am become ginger pudding,’  _ that  _ would be embarrassing.”

He released a surprised bark of laughter, then turned to face me. And there it was, in the gleaming in his eyes: the old Mal I knew from Keramzin. My friend.

But just as suddenly as it had appeared, the spark flared out. His head jerked up and he put a finger to his lips.

“Hands above your heads.” The voice came from the shadows of the trees. Mal’s hand darted for his rifle and had it as his shoulder in the blink of an eye, but three people were already emerging from the woods — two men and a woman with her hair in a topknot — the muzzles of their weapons trained on us. I thought I recognized them from the convoy we’d seen on the road.

…

There was a sudden thump beside us as someone swung down from the treetops. “What are you two doing barefoot and half naked in the mud?” asked a familiar voice. “Looking for truffles, I hope?”

Nikolai slashed through the bonds on our wrists and yanked me to my feet. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart skittered. “Next time  _ I’ll _ try getting captured. Just to keep things interesting.” He tossed Mal a rifle. “Shall we?”

***

From miles beneath the earth to miles above. I could scarcely believe any of it, that Nikolai had found us, that he was safe, that we were all here. A tide of relief washed over me, making my eyes fill.

“First vomit, then tears,” Nikolai said, coming up beside me. “Don’t tell me I’ve lost my touch.”

Too full of emotions to restrain myself, I turned and flung my arms around Nikolai’s neck, hugging him. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. I was almost immediately hit by a wave of self-consciousness, and I stepped back, praying that that infernal blush of mine wasn’t too obvious.

“I’m just happy you’re alive,” I said. “Though I'm sure you can talk me out of it.”

…

He reached out and tugged on a lock of my white hair. “Bold choice.”

I pushed the loose strands behind my ear just as I pushed my wonders about whether he liked it to the back of my mind. My blush was definitely showing. “It’s all the fashion underground.”

“Is it?”

“It happened during the battle. I hoped it might turn back, but it seems to be permanent.”

Nikolai leaned back on the railing and studied the balloon tethered above us. “Alina…,” he began. I was so unused to seeing Nikolai ill at ease that it took me a moment to realize he was struggling for words. “Alina, the night the palace was attacked, I did come back.”

Was that what was worrying him? That I thought he’d abandoned me? “I never doubted it,” I said truthfully.

...

I’d missed him. The way he talked. The way he attacked a problem. The way he brought hope with him wherever he went.

I could still feel the warmth of my blush, the skip of my heartbeat. I sighed. His friendship was invaluable, and it seemed like maybe he thought the same way, but I had to remind myself that it probably didn’t go farther. The proposals were all obviously for political gain — he’d made that clear. He’d suggested that I could still continue my relationship with Mal, so obviously he didn’t actually care about me in a romantic way. And everything else — the kissing, the flirting — they all served that same goal: diplomatic marriage.

I had seen the way Nikolai’s father acted. I doubted that Nikolai would end up the same way, but I had to admit that a marriage with someone who didn’t really love me was not a good idea.

***

“The whole Spinning Wheel runs on melted snow and steam heat,” Nikolai said. “The problem is fuel, but I’ve been stockpiling coal for two years. We started repairs when I had the lower caverns turned into hangars. It’s not an ideal vacation spot, but sometimes you just want to get away.”

I was impressed, but also unnerved. Being around Nikolai was always like this, watching him shift and change, revealing secrets as he went. He reminded me of the wooden nesting dolls I’d played with as a child. Except instead of getting smaller, he just kept getting grander and more mysterious. Tomorrow, he’d probably tell me he’d built a pleasure palace on the moon.  _ Tough to get to, but quite a view. _

“I’d like to see Baghra,” I said.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Not remotely.”

“I’ll take you to her. Good practice should I ever need to walk someone to the gallows. And after you’ve had your fill of punishment, you and Oretsev can join me for dinner.”

“Thank you,” Mal said, “but I should look into outfitting our expedition to retrieve the firebird.”

There’d been a time, not so long ago, that Mal would have bristled at the thought of leaving me alone with Prince Perfect, but Nikolai had the grace not to register surprise. “Of course. I’ll send Nevsky to you when he’s done. He can help arrange your accommodations as well.”

He clapped a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Oretsev.”

The smile Mal returned was genuine. “You too. Thanks for the rescue.”

“Everyone needs a hobby.”

“I thought yours was preening.”

“Two hobbies.”

They clasped hands briefly, then Mal bowed and moved off with the group. As he was turning to leave, he turned his head slightly so that I could see him wink at me. He grinned, then was off.

I remembered what he had said about me being a queen. I remembered the tattoo across his back. It was an interesting way of dealing with a break up, but I supposed he just had his own way of healing. There would probably always be a scar, but scars didn’t have to hurt. I glanced at the one on my own palm and smiled. They didn’t have to hurt at all.

***

“Nikolai’s a born leader,” Mal said. “He knows how to fight. Knows how to politic. But he doesn’t know what it is to live without hope. He’s never been nothing. Not like you or me or Genya.”

“He’s a good man,” I protested.

“And he’ll be a good king. But he needs you to be a great one.”

I sighed. “Mal, I — I don’t think I could do it. You heard what the king did. That’s what happens to monarchs in their loveless marriages. I don’t think Nikolai will be like that, but still. I think, I think…” I paused, reaching for words that wouldn’t come. I changed tack.

“You weren’t there, but back at the Little Palace, Botkin was watching Tamar fight. He said that she would never marry, that she was made for war. I feel like I’m becoming the same way.”

Mal looked at me curiously.

“I’m a Saint, and a Summoner,” I said. “Either I’m martyred young, or I outlive everyone around me. Either way, it’s not good for relationships. The Darkling was always telling me I was going to be alone unless I joined him, and I think he’s right. But I would rather be alone than with him. So I guess, I guess I’m trying to be like Tamar. I’m trying to remake myself for war.”

Mal’s brow furrowed. “Alina, are you sure that’s… Healthy?”

“Says the man who literally got  _ I am become a blade _ tattooed on his back.”

He blushed slightly. “Well, I mean —”

I cut him off. “Yes, I know, I’m not being entirely fair. I know that you and Zoya are a thing, or at least will be.”

He huffed. “Your whole point about Tamar rather falls apart when you consider the fact that she and Nadia very clearly have a thing too.”

“Tolya, then.”

“Sure, but still. I think I understand now what you said to me back at the Little Palace. You shouldn’t have to change from who you are to be with me. But don’t change who you are so that you can be alone, either.”

The room seemed very quiet.

“Goodnight, Mal,” I whispered.

***

“If you’re going to jump, at least give me time to compose a ballad in your honor,” said Nikolai. I turned to see him striding onto the terrace, blond hair shining. He’d thrown on an elegant greatcoat of army drab, marked with the golden double eagle. “Something with lots of sad fiddle and a verse devoted to your love of herring.”

“If I wait, I may have to hear you sing it.”

“I happen to have a more than passable baritone. And what’s the rush? Is it my cologne?”

“You don’t wear cologne.” The fact that I knew this worried me. Oh, my traitorous heart.

“I have such a naturally delightful scent that it seems like overkill. But if you have a penchant for it, I’ll start.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No, thank you.”

“I shall obey you in all things. Especially after that demonstration,” he said with a nod to the lopped-off mountain. “Anytime you want me to take off my hat, please just ask.”

“Looks impressive, doesn’t it?” I said with a sigh. “But the Darkling learned at Baghra’s knee. He’s had hundreds of years to master his power. I’ve had less than one.”

“I have a gift for you.”

“Is it the firebird?”

“Was that what you wanted? Should have told me sooner.” he reached into his pocket and placed something atop the wall.

Light glinted off an emerald ring. The lush green stone at its center was bigger than my thumbnail and surrounded by stars of tiny diamonds. My breath caught in my throat.

“Understatement is overrated,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I love it when you quote me.” Nikolai tapped the ring. “Console yourself knowing that, should you ever punch me while wearing it, you’ll probably take my eye out. And I’d very much like you to. Wear it, that is. Not punch me.”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“My mother gave it to me before she left. It’s the Lantsov emerald. She was wearing it at my birthday dinner the night we were attacked. Curiously enough, that was not the worst birthday I’ve had.”

“No?”

“When I was ten, my parents hired a  _ clown _ .”

Tentatively, I reached out and picked up the ring. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was big enough to choke on,” I said. “It’s heavy.”

“A mere boulder, really.”

“Did you tell your mother you planned to give it to a common orphan?”

“I said it was giving it to a Saint. She did most of the talking anyways,” he said. “She wanted to tell me about Magnus Opjer.”

“Who?”

“A Fjerdan ambassador, quite a sailor, made his money in shipping.” Nikolai looked out at the cloud bank. “Also my father, apparently.”

I wasn’t sure whether to offer congratulations or condolences. Most of all, I just wanted to take my hand in his. But I stood where I was, torn by my heart and my knowledge that he didn’t love me. 

“It’s strange to actually know,” he continued, oblivious to my struggle. “I think some part of me always hoped the rumors were just that.”

“You’ll still make a great king,” I bit out. I couldn’t stand to see him pained like this.

“Of course I will,” he scoffed. “I’m melancholy, not daft.” He brushed an invisible piece of lint from his sleeve. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me for sending her into exile, especially to the Colonies.”

Was it harder to lose a mother or to simply never know one? I had to chide myself. I remembered the moment on the pier. He had told me his anxiety about his parentage, and I hadn’t been able to tell whether he was genuine or just trying to make me like him more. And here we were, discussing the exact same subject, and I still couldn’t tell. Nikolai had so many different personalities, it was impossible to tell which was actually his — or if any of them were at all.

“I’m sorry, Nikolai,” I said at last. It was the truth.

“What is there to be sorry about? I’ve finally gotten what I wanted. The King has stepped down, the path to the throne is clear. If there weren’t an all-powerful dictator and his monstrous horde to attend to, I’d be opening a bottle of champagne.”

Nikolai could be as glib as he wanted. I knew this wasn’t how he’d imagined assuming leadership of Ravka — his brother murdered, his father brought low by the sordid accusations of a servant.

“When will you take the crown?” I asked.

“Not until we’ve won. I’ll be crowned in Os Alta or not at all. And the first step is consolidating our alliance with West Ravka.”

“Hence the ring?” I tried to keep my voice steady so as not to betray my inner emotional turmoil.

“Hence the ring.” He smoothed the edge of his lapel and said, “You know, you could have told me about Genya.”

I felt a wash of guilt. I would never forget the face he’d made when I walked into the throne room with Genya at my side. “I was trying to protect her. Not enough people have done that.”

“I don’t want lies between us, Alina.”

“How many lies have you told me,  _ Sturmhond?” _ I gestured to the Spinning Wheel. “How many secrets have you kept until you were ready to share them?”

He tucked his hands behind his back, looking distinctly uncomfortable. It almost made me regret what I’d said, but I knew I needed to stick up for myself and Genya. “Prince’s prerogative?” he said.

“If a mere prince gets a pass, so does a living Saint.”

“Are you going to make a habit of winning arguments? It’s very unbecoming.”

“Unbecoming of you, perhaps,” I said. I could no longer tell what I wanted from this conversation. I was scared of offending him, scared of falling in love with him. “Was this an argument?”

“Obviously not. I don’t lose arguments.”

Nikolai’s tone was light, but I could feel his clever hazel eyes on me. There was a pause, and I looked at the ring lying on the wall.

He’d promised Baghra that he’d shoot me if I got too dangerous, I reminded myself. And while I understood where he was coming from, there was no way he would have done that if he loved me. I was not going to force myself into a loveless marriage, and end up like Nikolai’s mother with a bastard son, his mother who bullied her Tailor to make her beautiful so that maybe her husband would actually look at her.

But… I couldn’t bring myself to completely close off the opportunity. Mal’s warning rang in my head. And also, it was Nikolai, and my heart was in my throat.

I kept my voice steady as I tried to hand the ring back. “I can’t accept this. Not now.” Maybe not ever.

“Keep it,” he said, curling my fingers over the emerald. “A privateer learns to press any advantage.”

“And a prince?”

“Princes get used to the word  _ yes." _

***

The girls stayed until the lamps burned low, and I was grateful for their company. But when they’d claimed the dresses they liked, and the rest of the finery had been wrapped and returned to the trunks, they said their goodnights.

I picked up the ring from the table, feeling the absurd weight of it in my palm. Everyone expected me to marry Nikolai. I liked him, for Saints’ sake. Even I had to admit that.

But he didn’t love me. And even if he did now, it was only a matter of time until he didn’t, when the years weighed upon him while leaving me untouched.

I closed my hand around the ring, feeling the sharp edges of the emerald bite into my skin, and collapsed on my bed. Starlight poured through the window, and I instinctively summoned, weaving it around my skin like the night when we had emerged from the tunnels. I remembered what Zoya had said then.

I would be a moon maiden, a fitting wife for a Prince of the Air. I would be beautiful, and he would love me for it. Eternally youthful, and eternally beloved by him.

But even then, he would die. And I would be alone.

I was staring at the ceiling when I heard the Darkling’s voice.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

I immediately sat up. He was standing at the foot of my bed, leaning against the wall, studying me. His quartz eyes traced their way along my silvered skin. I felt dirty, and I banished the light. Before, I had had to chase the individual specks of light. Now, it vanished like mist before the rays of the sun.

“The night that Baghra told you what I intended, the night you fled the Little Palace, did you hesitate?”

“I’m not the girl I was then,” I said, my voice cold.

“So you did, then,” he said, smiling.

“I won’t deny it. I’m not a compulsive liar, unlike some people.”

He smirked. “Has the Lantsov prince claimed you yet?”

_ "Claimed me? _ Like a peninsula?”

“No blushes. No averted eyes. How you’ve changed.” It was a good thing he wasn’t a Corporalki, or he might have sensed my heartbeat accelerate at his mention of Nikolai.

He stepped closer to where I lay on the bed, and my spine stiffened.

“I’m going to enter the Fold,” he said.

“Go ahead,” I said. “The volcra deserve another piece of you.”

“They will not have it. Ask David what secrets he left for me to discover at the palace.”

I stilled.

“He’s a clever one,” the Darkling said. “I’ll be taking him back when this is all over. The question is, will I be taking you, too?”

“No,” I said. “You and I both know you’re a monster.”

“You were meant to be my balance, Alina. You are the only person in the world who might rule with me, who might keep my power in check.”

“And who will balance me?” The words emerged before I thought better of them.

He studied me for a long moment. He had always watched me this way, as if I were an equation that didn’t quite tally.

“I want you to know my name,” he said. “The name I was given, not the title I took for myself.” I narrowed my eyes, and he stepped closer still, then sat on the edge of the bed next to me.

After a long moment, he said, “Aleksander.”

A little laugh escaped me. He arched a brow, a smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

“It’s just so … common.”

His smile deepened. Then suddenly, he bent forwards, placing an arm on either side of my head. He was leaning over me, his face mere inches from mine.

“Say it,” he said softly.

I felt the weight of the emerald in my palm, and I slipped it onto my finger. I remembered Nikolai’s words:  _ should you ever punch me while wearing it, you’ll probably take my eye out. _

“Don’t touch me,” I growled at the Darkling — at Aleksander. Then I punched him.

He fell off of me onto the floor, hissing in pain. He placed one hand against the wall to help him to his feet while the other remained clutched over the eye the ring had struck.

“I grow weary of this game, Alina,” he said, the pain still evident in his voice.

“Weary?” I snapped. “You’ve toyed with me at every turn. You haven’t tired of the game. You’re just sorry I’m not so easily played.”

He snarled. “I will enter the Fold, Alina, and I will show West Ravka what I can do, even without the Sun Summoner. And when I have crushed Lantsov’s only ally, I will hunt you like an animal. You will find no sanctuary. You will have no peace.” He pulled his hand away from his eye. Or, rather, where his eye should have been — now, there was nothing but darkness.

He smiled, and broke into shadows.

***

My thoughts were interrupted by Nikolai striding down the hall toward me.

“There’s something you should see,” he said.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“Rather spectacular, actually.” He offered me his arm. “Some might call it a miracle, though I suppose that it takes a Saint to be the judge of that.” He winked at me.

I looped my arm through his. “Never one to oversell it, are you, Lantsov?”

“It’s not overselling if you deliver.”

When we reached the top of the stairs and entered the Spinning Wheel, my jaw dropped. The lanterns had been extinguished so that the room was dark, but all around us, stars were falling. The windows were lit with streaks of light cascading over the mountaintop, like bright fish in a river.

“Meteor shower,” said Nikolai as he led me carefully through the room. People had laid blankets and pillows on the heated floor and were sitting in clusters or lying on their backs, watching the night sky. He took me past the crowd to a quiet nook near the western terrace.

We were in a room made entirely of glass. I could see the flashes of light slip out of the darkened sky and streak downwards until they vanished behind the silhouettes of the mountains around us.

I couldn’t help it. The light of the falling stars wove itself around me, coating my skin and my dress, twining itself through my hair. I was queen of the moon and stars; he was the Prince of the Air. Together, we were the monarchs of this night sky.

But the thought came and went just as quickly as the stars falling around me. I knew that bringing me up here was less a romantic gesture than it was a display. We had this little pocket of the Spinning Wheel to ourselves, but he’d made sure we’d taken the long way through the crowd. He’d wanted us to be seen together: the future King and Queen of Ravka.

I shut my eyes, and I almost sobbed. I wanted nothing more than for Nikolai to love me, for everything to work out. But it was just like the starlight wrapped around me. It was an illusion.

“I know you’re going to ask me to marry you,” I said.

Silence on his part.

“But… I don’t think…” My voice was a brittle and fragile thing, too delicate for the words I was trying to say. How could I possibly convey all of my concerns, my worries, my fears?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and started anew. “Baghra told me you promised her that, if the third amplifier turned me into a power-mad dictator, you would kill me.”

I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. He was looking right back at me. I could tell that he was struggling to mask his emotions, but he had the practice of a prince. I couldn’t read him.

“Yes,” he said softly. “It would make for an awkward honeymoon,” he added with a little more of his usual confidence.

“You might need more than a bullet to do so,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Possibly another Sun Summoner.”

“I’m sure there’s a spare around somewhere.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” he said. “If we’re not dead in a month, we might be very happy together.”

“Stop that,” I said, still grinning.

“What?”

“Saying the right thing.”  
“I’ll try to wean myself of the habit.” He took my hand, circling my bare wrist with his fingers. I tensed, and realized I was waiting for the shock that came with the Darkling’s touch, or like I’d sometimes felt when Mal had held my arm. Nothing happened. Nikolai’s skin was warm, his grip gentle. I’d wondered if I would ever feel something so simple again or if the power in me would just keep jumping and crackling, seeking connection the way lightning seeks high ground.

But this was… Well, it wasn’t normal. Not with my heart pounding like it was about to explode. But it felt  _ possible, _ possible in a life that spent most of its time ripping possibilities away from me.

Nikolai’s smile faltered. He reached out and brushed the hair back from my face. I froze. He rested his hand in the space where the collar met the curve of my neck, and when I didn’t bolt, he slid his palm up to cup my cheek.

“So have I convinced you?” he whispered. He moved closer, the light from the meteor shower playing over his features. He leaned in, giving me time to pull away. “Have my fine arguments won you over?”

“I don’t lose arguments,” I said.

His silent laughter brushed against my skin. I could feel his breath when he said, “I love it when you quote me.”

He kissed me.

I stopped breathing, and I was pretty sure that my heart stopped beating, too. I was no longer being, I was being kissed. The starlight writhed across my skin beneath the touch of his hands on my arms. He pulled me closer.

For a moment, I was about to kiss him back. But then I heard words echo in the back of my mind.

_ He doesn’t love you. _

Was it the Darkling’s voice? Mal’s? Mine? I didn’t know. But all of my fears came crashing down on top of me. I tore myself out of Nikolai’s arms, stumbling backwards.

I didn’t dare to look at his face. I turned and ran.

***

“Are we a go?” Tamar asked. Mal’s team was set to depart and was only waiting for the all clear.

Nikolai nodded. “You’re a go.”

I’d been avoiding Nikolai all morning, unwilling to deal with the repercussions of my actions from the previous night. But there was no way I was going to let my friends leave without a goodbye, so here I was, my heart lurching and the wound on my shoulder itching. How I was planning to survive an entire diplomatic trip at Nikolai’s side, I had no idea, but I was still futilely persisting in my course.

I embraced Tamar once she and Nadia were done celebrating.

“Take care of Tolya for me,” she said. Then she whispered, “We left the cobalt lace in your trunk. Wear that tonight.”

I rolled my eyes and gave her a shove. I knew I would see them all in a week, but I was surprised at how much I was going to miss them.

I let go of Tamar, only to glimpse Mal out of the corner of my eye. He was standing next to Zoya. I turned and hugged him.

“Safe journey, Alina,” he said, smiling.

“Don’t piss off Zoya,” I said. “I’d like to see all four of you again.”

He laughed as he stepped back. He turned to Nikolai and bowed. Nikolai offered his hand, and they shook.

“I expect to see you all safe and whole in one week’s time,” Nikolai said, “and packing some all-powerful bird bones.”

“Saints’ speed,  _ moi tsarevich," _ Mal said. “Make her happy.”

He followed Zoya and Tamar back into the Spinning Wheel, to the hangar where Nadia was already waiting.

“Well,” said Nikolai, “at least he’s learned how to make an exit.”

I was alone with him now. My heart was beating too fast. The wound on my shoulder was burning. My head was spinning. Should I throw myself on him, beg his forgiveness for running away from him yet again, tell him I loved him? Or should I straighten my spine and toss his stupid Lantsov emerald off the terrace and let it plummet to the rocks below?

“About last night,” Nikolai began, turning to face me. He had a worried expression on his face. “Alina, I —”

He never finished his sentence. A shadowed blur cut across my vision, and Nikolai was gone. I stood staring at the place where he’d been, then screamed as I felt claws close over my shoulders and my feet lifted from the floor.

I glimpsed Mal bursting through the door to the terrace, Tamar on his heels. They leaped and each grabbed one of my ankles, holding me to earth. I twisted, arms moving in an arc, sending a blaze of light burning through the  _ nichevo’ya _ that had hold of me. It wavered and exploded into nothing. I fell, saved from colliding with the terrace by Tamar and Mal’s waiting arms. I was bleeding from where the monster’s talons had pierced my skin.

I was on my feet in seconds, horrified by what I saw. The air was full of darting black shapes, winged monsters that moved unlike any natural creature. Behind me, I heard chaos erupting in the hall, the smash of breaking glass as  _ nichevo’ya _ hurled themselves against the windows. I couldn’t see Nikolai. I wouldn’t lose him. Not again, not again.

“Get the others out,” I yelled to Tamar. “Get them away from here.”

“We can’t leave you —”

“I won’t lose them too!”

“Go!” Mal bellowed at her. He shouldered his rifle, taking aim at the attacking monsters. I raised my arms to use the Cut, but I hesitated. If I killed the one holding Nikolai, he would fall, possibly off the mountain entirely. Or, I might hit Nikolai with the Cut. In either case, he would die by my own hand.

I wailed. I’d avoided him all morning, and now he was gone before I could have a chance to apologize, to tell him I loved him. I could have had one more moment with him, to listen to his charm and watch his smile. Why had I even run from him in the first place? I’d let him be taken from me yet again. Except this time, there was no chance of escape.

…

“Here we are again, Alina,” said the Darkling. “Your army against mine. Do you think your soldiers will fare any better this time?”

I ignored him and shouted into the misty grayness, my voice as shattered as the glass of the Spinning Wheel behind me. “Nikolai!”

“Ah, the pirate prince. I have regretted many of the things I’ve had to do in this war,” said the Darkling. “This is not one of them.”

A shadow soldier swooped down. In horror, I saw it held Nikolai struggling in its arms. Any bit of courage I had evaporated. I couldn’t see Nikolai ripped limb from limb.

“Please!” The word tore from me, without dignity or constraint. “Please don’t!”

The Darkling raised his hand.

I clapped my fingers over my mouth, my legs already buckling.

But the  _ nichevo’ya _ didn’t attack Nikolai. It tossed him onto the terrace. His body hit the stone with a sickening thud and rolled to a stop.

“Alina, don’t!” Mal tried to hold me back, but I broke free of him and ran to where Nikolai lay, falling to my knees beside him. His coat was torn where the creature’s claws had shredded the fabric. He tried to push himself up on his elbows and blood dribbled from his mouth.

“This was unexpected,” he said weakly.

“You’re okay,” I said. “It’s okay.” I took hold of his arm.

“I appreciate your optimism.”

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and saw two blots of shadow slip free of the Darkling’s hands. They slithered over the lip of the balcony, undulating like serpents, heading directly toward us. I raised my hands and slashed out with the Cut, obliterating one side of the terrace, but I was too slow. The shadows slithered lightning fast across the stone and darted into Nikolai’s mouth.

His eyes widened. His breath hitched in surprise, drawing whatever the Darkling had released into his lungs.

“What — what was that?” he said.

“I —”

He coughed, shuddered. Then his fingers flew to his chest, tearing open the remains of his shirt. We both looked down, and I saw shadow spreading beneath his skin in fragile black lines, splintering like veins in marble.

“No,” I breathed.

The cracks travelled across his stomach, down his arms.

“Alina?” he said helplessly. The darkness fractured beneath his skin, climbing his throat. He threw his head back and screamed, the tendons flexing in his neck as his whole body contorted, his back bowing. He shoved up to his knees, chest heaving. I reached for him as he convulsed. I wanted to hold him, or hold onto him, or I didn’t know what.

He released another raw scream, and two black shards burst from his back. They unfurled. Like wings.

His head shot up. He looked at me, face beaded in sweat, gaze panicked and desperate. Then his eyes flickered with fear, with despair, and finally resolve.

“Alina,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Then his eyes — his clever, hazel eyes — went black.

“Nikolai?” I said.

His lips curled back, revealing teeth of black onyx. They had formed fangs.

He snarled. I stumbled backward. His jaws snapped closed a bare inch from me.

_ No no no no no no no no no — _

“Hungry?” the Darkling asked. “I wonder which one of your friends you’ll eat first.”

I raised my hands, reluctant to use my power. I didn’t want to hurt him. “Nikolai,” I begged. “Don’t do this. Stay with me.”

His face spasmed in pain. He was in there, fighting himself, battling the appetite that had taken hold of him. His hands flexed — no, his  _ claws _ . He howled, and the noise that came from him was desperate, shrieking, completely inhuman.

His wings beat the air as he rose from the terrace, monstrous, but still beautiful, still somehow Nikolai. He looked down at the dark veins coursing over his torso, at the razor-sharp talons that had pushed from his blackened fingertips. He held out his hands as if pleading with me for an answer.

“Nikolai,” I sobbed, my voice breaking. “I love you, too.”

He turned in the air, wrenching himself away, and raced upward, as if he could somehow outpace the need inside him, his black wings carrying him higher as he cut through the  _ nichevo’ya _ . He looked back once. There was just enough of his face left that I could see his anguish, his confusion, his heartbreak.

Then he was gone, a black speck in the gray sky, while I remained trembling below. Grieving. Aching. And most of all, alone.

“Eventually,” said the Darkling, “he will feed.”

I’d warned Nikolai of the Darkling’s vengeance, but even I couldn’t have foreseen the elegance of this, the perfect cruelty. Nikolai had made a fool of the Darkling, and now the Darkling had taken my polished, brilliant, noble prince and made him into a monster. Death would have been too kind.

A sound came from me, something guttural, animal, a noise I didn’t recognize. I raised my hands and brought the Cut blazing down in two furious arcs.

He had taken my prince from me. I was the sun, and now the world was going to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhown ein golau gwan i'n gilydd, ar hyd y nos.  
>  _We'll put our weak light together, all though the night._
> 
> Plot is just a fancy word for "arbitrary reasons why these two characters who like each other can't be together." It happens, bro, it happens.  
> Anyways, since I've gone to the trouble of splitting this into two parts, I have an opportunity to add some additional icing to this hot mess of a cake. I'm down for writing an interlude from Nikolai's perspective, or maybe one focusing on Zoya and Mal. Or I could hop straight into the second part of Ruin & Rising. Let me know what you want with a comment. Feedback is also greatly appreciated --- this chapter is even more of a train wreck than the first one. Editing was... Minimal. It's just too long (and I'm too lazy).


	3. Nikolai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Nikolai time.  
> This one isn't going to be pulling from the books like the previous two chapters (though it will reference events and dialogue from the books). Also it's in third person because I am not as smart as Nikolai and I'm not even going to attempt to imitate him.  
> Yeah, I don't have that much extra to say. I love all y'all who are reading this, you've already read over 10,000 words just to get to this point, and I got another fat chunk for you right here.  
> Ar hyd y nos, my guys, and I'll see you in the end notes <3

The white hair caught him off guard.

Nikolai had never really been the sort to care about a pretty face. He’d known that he would never marry for love, so there was no reason to bother.

Alina had been beautiful before, sure, just like all the rest of the Grisha. He hadn’t really cared. He had suggested marrying her because she was the Sun Summoner, because she was Sankta Alina. She was smart, and funny, and pretty, but that just made it an easier thing to do. He wanted to marry her entirely for political reasons. Or so he’d assumed.

But now, everywhere he went, he couldn’t stop seeing flashes of white out of the corner of his vision. He couldn’t stop turning his head to follow them. He couldn’t stop looking at her. And he couldn’t stop thinking about when he’d kissed her, by the lake. He’d been so caught up in the moment, a summer evening when anything had seemed possible, the two of them intoxicatingly close together. He had kissed her. He had kissed her, and she had fled.

He still wasn’t fully over her rejection. He’d tried his best to respect it, but it was gnawing away at his inside. He’s always thought his charm was fairly unrivaled, and he was a prince with all the wealth and power that entailed. But none of it had helped. Even after she’d broken up with Mal, Alina had still turned him down. Perhaps he wasn’t as charismatic as he thought.

But… That wasn’t the only reason why the rejection stung. Somewhere along the way, he’d started to like her. As, well, more than a friend. It was hard to pinpoint exactly where, but certainly by the time of his birthday dinner. He could finally just let himself like her without feeling bad about Mal. And it had helped that she had worn that glittering _kefta,_ and that she had just glowed like a ray of sunshine — figuratively, though he supposed a literal interpretation would also have been accurate. She’d been happy, and it had shone through in her jokes, her laughter, her conversation, the way she’d smiled at him and him alone when some boring officer was droning on and on. He could have spent his whole life sitting by her side at that dinner.

After she hugged him, he couldn’t help it. He reached out and touched her hair. He tried to joke about it, but he could feel the worry building up in him. She didn’t seem to notice his nervousness; she seemed unperturbed herself. Did she not worry that he had abandoned her? He had thought she was dead. But now here she was, with white hair and her saddened smile and Saints, he was falling in love with her, wasn’t he?

But she didn’t want him. He’d abandoned her, she’d run from him… He felt a knot build up in his throat, and he searched for words. He saw the way she looked at him then, like she was seeing some new side of him. And he wished, he wished that he could just be himself with someone, instead of having to be perfect and always say the right thing. He wished Alina could see him like he was now, instead of constantly being disappointed when he said the right thing, when he wasn’t himself.

So he tried. He told her he came back. It was just a piece of his worries, but her confidence warmed him. Perhaps he could ask her one more time.

***

He gave her the ring.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he loved her.

After so many years of hiding himself behind so many different personas, simply being himself, being vulnerable, it was just impossible. He didn’t even talk about her during his whole speech.

He was too scared. Scared of being rejected. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of being himself.

If he had talked about it, he had no doubt that all of his charm would have evaporated. So he didn’t.

***

As soon as the meteor shower began, he knew what he had to do.

He meant to just sit down with her in the center of the Spinning Wheel, where everyone could see them. But once he saw the starlight reflected in Alina’s eyes, that idea simply felt… Wrong. Instead, he led her to a small side room, one he knew would be empty.

He’d meant to just confess everything. That he’d fallen in love with her, and she wasn’t just his friend. But then... She wove the starlight around her skin. She stole the light from the falling stars just like she stole the breath from his lungs. She said she knew he was going to ask her to marry him. But honestly, he wasn’t. Even if he had been able to speak, it would have been to tell her that she was beautiful, that he loved her. And he would have meant it.

But instead he could only stare at her, at the sight even more beautiful than the miracle of the sky above him.

After a few moments of his silence, she continued. She brought up the promise he had made with Baghra.

 _Oh, Saints._ He remembered the old woman’s black eyes, her iron grasp. He remembered the image his imagination had conjured at her words: Alina, beautiful but terrible, her once gentle glowing light become a blazing hellfire. His angel, become a demon. And yes, he had promised Baghra, if that happened, he would kill her. Because his Alina was prickly but gentle, funny and sarcastic, an Alina who would fight against such a tyrant, not become one. He would owe it to Alina to continue that fight, to kill the tyrant, even if it would break his heart to do so. And so he had promised Baghra, and the old witch had heard the truth in his voice, the truth beneath the pain.

And now Alina knew. Knew he had promised to kill her. There was no way he could forgive him for that, could she?

She opened her eyes, and he did his best to hide his feelings from her. It was something he usually did without thinking that he did it automatically — but this time, it was especially difficult. There was simply too much emotion to hide it all. He was still in awe at her beauty, but the memory of the promise with Baghra had dredged up all the pain and conflict of that decision, and now he had the despair in his heart with the knowledge that Alina must hate him. And on top of that, simply hiding his emotions from Alina, well, it felt _wrong._

So he did what he always did — he hid his pain with humor.

And Alina kept up with him every step of the way. He loved talking with her. His jokes were appreciated and responded to in kind, and he couldn’t help but point it out.

Stop saying the right thing, she said.

And when he joked that he would, he meant it. He wished he could just be himself with her, instead of the best version of himself. And he wished that he could say the real right thing, that he could tell her that he loved her. All of those ‘right things’ that she saw right through; those hadn’t won her over, and they never would.

He was too scared to say the right thing then. So he just took her hand in his. Just brushed her beautiful hair away from her beautiful face. Just placed his hand against her skin still wreathed in starlight. Just kissed her.

Saints, he loved her.

And then she was running away from him. Again.

His heart was plummeting from the edge of the Spinning Wheel. It was falling, falling, falling, and when it reached the rocks below, it would shatter.

***

She avoided him the next morning. It hurt.

He’d gone too far the previous night. Sure, she hadn’t flinched away from him when he’d put his hand against her neck, but he didn’t ask if it was okay to kiss her. And he should’ve known it wasn’t. Not when she’d run from him, when she’d turned him down multiple times before, when she started off the conversation by saying why she wouldn’t marry him.

He should have at least asked if it was okay, so that she could have said no. He was a horrible person.

At least her avoiding him made it easier for him to take care of the logistics for Mal’s expedition. If she got too close to him, he would probably just melt into a puddle and lie on the floor for several hours.

She came to say goodbye to Mal, of course. And as he watched the crew leave, he knew he had to take the chance while he still could. They would be traveling together. He needed to apologize, to make up for the wrong he had done, to try to fix their friendship before that was beyond saving, too. Why he had ever hoped for her love, when it was so clear that he didn’t deserve it?

“About last night,” he began. He needed to apologize, but the words simply would not come.

Or at least, they didn’t come before he was plucked from the terrace and began to rise into the air at a dizzying height.

Nothing really seemed real anymore.

He was being held by _nichevo’ya._ The Darkling was there. How? He didn’t know. Some Grisha whom he recognized but couldn’t name was torn limb from limb before his eyes — and before the eyes of a screaming Alina. And then her screams were of his name, and he was thrown onto the terrace, and when the world stopped spinning she was by his side, face stained with tears.

“That was unexpected,” he said. He knew he had just come perilously close to death — he couldn’t find a reason why he was possibly still alive — but the sheer unreality of the situation prevented it from sinking in. Maybe he was in shock, but wasn’t that condition usually associated with blood loss? He supposed he was bleeding, but was he bleeding that badly?

He was very much convinced that he was dreaming when Alina appeared at his side. “You’re okay,” she said. “It’s okay.” He was about to tell her that the first of those was true for the moment but the second was definitely not, but then she took his arm. And suddenly, it was okay.

“I appreciate your optimism,” he told her. And he did.

But then there was a flash of darkness that darted towards him and across his skin and through the corners of his mouth. He gasped a little, in surprise, and felt the shadows slide down his throat.

“What — what was that?” he said, but he was already coughing. He could feel the blackness like a physical presence inside of him, gnawing at his insides, piercing his heart. He undid his shirt and saw black lines spreading across him. The color drained from Alina’s face.

This couldn’t have been real. But why wasn’t he waking up, then?

And then he felt the pain. And the pain was real.

His body was being torn to pieces from the inside, by this darkness that was tearing his skin apart and taking over his heart, his lungs, his very being. He screamed and collapsed to his knees, his senses disintegrating around him. There was something else within him, fighting for control.

His back blazed with pain. He was suddenly aware of a new pair of limbs — a pair of _wings._

He looked up at Alina. He was afraid of what was happening to him, and more afraid still of the horror he would see in Alina’s eyes as she watched, as she witnessed his transformation.

And then his blood ran ice cold as he realized what was happening. He was becoming a volcra. Or a _nichevo’ya._ Or some new kind of monster altogether. He was fighting with that monster for control. And he was losing that fight.

He was going to lose his humanity, and possibly his life. Ravka was going to lose its prince — its _king._ And he was going to lose Alina.

And suddenly, the maelstrom of his fear and emotion and turmoil became clear. He knew what he wanted his last words to be.

“Alina,” he said. “I love you.”

And the monster swept over him in a black tide.

  
  


When Nikolai was younger, he had once gone with Vasily to the races at Caryeva. His brother had given him a racehorse as a birthday present, and they went to go see it.

Nikolai had insisted on riding it, not just watching it. He remembered the look in his brother’s eyes at his words, but Vasily had gone along with it. The stablehands had helped Nikolai into the saddle and led the horse onto the track. Then they had handed him the reins.

The horse had started running.

And Nikolai had realized he was not in control.

He had initially pulled at the reins in a futile attempt to slow or steer, but the horse had just kept running. And running. And running. Nothing mattered except him and the horse. All he could hear was the thundering of hooves. All he could see was the blur of the world whipping past him. All he could feel was fear, fear of falling and slamming into the ground and being ground to powder by the horse’s hooves. He had clung to the reins less in an attempt to regain control and more in an attempt to simply stay seated, to stay alive. He couldn’t tell if the tears leaking from his eyes were from the panic or the sheer force of the wind slamming into his face.

Eventually the horse had slowed, and he had been helped down, doing his best to hide his tears while his brother’s laughter echoed in his ears. The memory had been mostly forgotten, until now.

Because the monster was the horse now, and he was not in control.

He was snapping at Alina now. He was dimly aware that she was speaking, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying.

 _No,_ he thought. _Not Alina. Never. Alina._

He reached through the pain, through the maddening hunger, and took hold of the reins.

He managed to step backwards. The monster assailed his mind, trying to regain control. He couldn’t hold on much longer, not when the monster was this ravenous. He was already slipping. And once he was gone... The monster would go after Alina. _He_ would go after Alina.

He screamed. _Not. Alina._

He had to get out. Before he lost control. Before he would kill Alina with his own hands, his own claws. He sprung into the air, his new wings carrying him up, up, up. Away from Alina. 

Away from Alina.

He vaguely remembered telling her that he loved her. It was only a few moments ago, he supposed, but he had already spent an eternity fighting this monster. Had she responded? Had she acknowledged what he said?

He looked back at her. She said something. Was it “I love —”

The monster pulled at his mind, and his consciousness scattered. It was only the need to protect Alina that allowed him to cling to control. He had to get away. He had to keep Alina safe.

And so he flew.

He saw the ship rise from the mountain. He was too weak to stop the monster from giving chase. Or, perhaps, it was that he wanted to follow. He couldn’t leave Alina. He was drawn to her, just as he was before. Only now, he couldn’t let himself get close to her.

At first, the ship moved faster than him, and the monster strained to keep up with the ship’s small and steadily shrinking silhouette. But after a few hours, the ship began to slow. He began to grow closer, and closer. The monster was tired, but above all it was hungry, and that fueled its progress. The day passed, and he grew closer and closer. At dusk, the human within him realized that he was going to catch up with the ship at some point during the night. He might kill Alina. He might kill one of the squallers or Tamar or Tolya or someone on the lines, leaving the ship to plummet to the ground. Either way, he would have Alina’s death on his claws.

It was too much. He grabbed hold of the reins. He had to turn back, to leave them be. But the hunger was too great. He did not turn.

They were passing over some farming village. A village full of unsuspecting prey. Whatever humanity left in his heart twisted in his chest as he realized what he was about to do.

Alina, or Ravka?

His wings tilted, and he shot downwards, drawn by the promise of human blood.

_Never. Alina._

After he had eaten, the monster was much more at peace. His humanity, however, was not; but it was already fading.

Was he chasing the ship because Alina was on it or because humans were on it? He didn’t know.

His “diversion” had put substantial distance between him and the ship, but he was already starting to catch up to it again. He could only hope they would land soon. Did he know where they were going? He felt like he should.

The ship landed around dawn. He was hungry, but not as ravenous as he had been before, so he was able to force himself away from the ship. He found himself flying in circles, hunting for humans. He couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad that he didn’t find anyone. He didn’t want to eat people. But he wanted to eat. The line between human and monster was blurring.

He was gliding overhead when he glimpsed a flash of white — Alina’s hair — in the trees below. And just as it had always done, it drew him in. He descended, unsure whether he was hunting her or following her. He was hungry.

He forced himself to land on a branch. And he watched her, just as he had always done.

But then she looked up and saw him. She said his name.

He recognized it, and for a moment it brought him back. He became distinctly aware of the blood on his claws, his mouth. Of the horror in Alina’s eyes. Of the hunger inside him that was clawing up his throat and threatening to shatter his control.

He flinched backwards, and Alina spoke again. Already, his brief grasp of his humanity was slipping. He had just enough left to be aware that once it was gone, he would go after Alina. So while he still had the chance, he threw himself into the air and fled.

He was living a nightmare.

He _was_ a nightmare.

He had blood on his claws, blood in his mouth. The darkness didn’t just surround him, it was in him. The night welcomed him, as much as he tried to run from it. And even when day broke, the night remained, always in him, always with him.

He was hungry.

He kept following Alina.

He didn’t let himself get too close. When the hunger got too strong, he went hunting for other people. But he always came back to Alina.

And then he let himself get too close.

She heard him, and looked back at him. And she took something out of her pocket.

The ring. His ring.

She’d kept it.

And suddenly, his humanity came rushing back. He was Nikolai again, though still stuck in a monster’s body.

He approached her. He knew he shouldn’t risk it. If he lost control, he could kill her. But he’d been apart from her for so long.

She was holding out the ring to him. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it pained him. He had to stay in control. He had to.

He picked up the ring. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but no words came from his blackened throat. So instead he just slipped it onto her finger.

She started to cry, but she was smiling. The smile was a ray of sunlight on the darkness that engulfed his heart.

Sunlight. Sunlight. Sunlight.

Alina was the Sun Summoner.

His brain, which for so long had slumbered in darkness, began to whir with a plan. Just like all of his questionable ideas, this one was worth a try.

He still couldn’t speak, so he waved his arm to try to communicate to her. He just had to hope she would understand he was imitating her, imitating her summoning.

She was speaking, but he couldn’t understand the words. Then she held up her palm and called the light.

If he had had eyes, he would have cried. But instead he took her hand and placed it against his heart.

If she could fix him, if she could drive away the darkness — then he could least be near her, if not with her. He didn’t have to be afraid of himself, to run from the woman he loved.

She shook her head, and he tapped her hand against his heart again. It steadied him, grounded him. He could feel the warmth of her skin, her light.

_Please. I need you._

“I don’t know what my power will do to you,” she said.

 _Well, it can’t be much worse than this,_ he thought, and he smiled. 

“All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, in writing this, I think I discovered that Nikolai is actually the most relatable character from the books (at least for me). He's a literal prince, but his use of personas and humor to hide who he really is --- even from himself --- and to avoid being vulnerable, it just hits a little too close to home.  
> Anyways, strap in, because the next chapter is going to be the Point of No Return and some serious canon divergence. And I know I already split Ruin and Rising into two chapters (three if you count this one), but I'm going to have to split it again... And I might have to split it a third time on top of that.  
> Also, apologies in advance if there's a delay before the next chapter. I'm balancing this fic, a first draft of a fantasy novel I've been working on for a while, an internship, and college applications (because those still exist). And I'm bad at time management. But I want to get this finished for you guys. It's kind crazy that there are people who read and enjoy my work... especially when it's so freaking long. Y'all the best.  
> As always, please leave your responses and criticism and ideas for what you want to see in the comments below! I live for those comment notifications. <3


	4. Ruin and Rising (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We start out with where Alina left off in chapter 2, just after Nikolai's transformation into a Nikovo'ya (not going to apologize for that). Things are going to get... Different.  
> At first, it's still going to be fairly similar to the book, so I'm still using ellipses to mark where I've omitted long sections that are identical. But by the end of this... Yeah, you're not really going to be seeing that anymore.  
> I'm using asterisks to separate what is a chapter break in the book, but I'm also not typing out the full conversation that would occur in that spot (but rest assured, it still does).

The Darkling had taken Nikolai from me.

The light was all around me, and it answered my call. The Cut tore through row upon row of _nichevo’ya,_ tearing apart the Darkling’s army. I aimed for the Darkling, and he moved his monsters to shield himself from my fury.

Did he really think that would save him? I had shorn off the top of a mountain. A few monsters weren’t going to stop me. The Cut blazed through his soldiers, and I heard the Darkling cry out. The whirring shapes dove downwards as the Darkling started falling — I must have cut through the _nichevo’ya_ that were holding him. I couldn’t see him through the black swarm, so I gritted my teeth and lashed out, hoping to either clear the monsters or, if I got lucky, strike down the Darkling himself.

Mal was screaming my name, but I ignored him. Dozens and dozens of _nichevo’ya_ burst into nothing with each Cut, enough that I seemed to be making a dent in the size of the Darkling’s horde. It was enough that I managed to glimpse his pale skin among the whirring black shapes. I raised my arms for the Cut, my fury bright as the sun, when suddenly claws grabbed me from behind.

I twisted as a _nichevo’ya_ lifted me from the ground, trying to get into position for the Cut, but another one swooped forwards and grabbed my arms. I kicked and struggled, but my thrashing only served to widen the wounds where the monster’s claws were sunk into my skin. Blood ran down my arms. Beside me, I could see the monsters had gotten hold of Mal as well. My vision blurred with tears that streaked down my cheeks.

_I could not let him win._

_Not after what he did to my prince._

_I could not let him win._

I felt a white heat begin to blaze inside of my heart. It swelled, setting my skin aflame. The power within me threatened to break free, to unleash a golden flare that would burn our very bones to dust, that would consume everyone and everything in sight.

I closed my eyes, ready to give in to the light. My Nikolai was gone; there was no reason for me to remain.

Then suddenly, the claws digging into my arms let go, and I tumbled to the terrace. I struck the stone, and the flare building within me winked out at the jolt.

I opened my eyes to a silent terrace. The _nichevo’ya_ hung in the air, bodies limp, wings moving in silent rhythm. Mal was sprawled on the ground like I was. I could hear the wail of the wind, the sounds of the battle raging behind us.

_“Abomination.”_

We sat up. Baghra stood inside the doorway, her hand on Misha’s shoulder.

…

The _Bittern_ started to slide forward on its runners.

“We’re too heavy!” Zoya cried.

Nevsky grabbed my shoulder. “Survive,” he said roughly. “Help him.”

A lump formed in my throat, too large to speak around. Did Nevsky know what had happened to Nikolai?

Without waiting for an answer, Nevsky shouted, “For the Twenty-Second!” He vaulted over the side, and the other soldiers followed without hesitation. They threw themselves into the mob.

I cried out. Nikolai, his men, his Spinning Wheel, they were all being taken from me. And now, Tamar was calling the order, and the _Bittern_ was leaving the hangar. We were leaving them behind.

I made to jump off the boat, to stay, to fight by Nevsky’s side. Then Mal grabbed my wrist.

An electric jolt slammed through me, through both of us. Mal flinched, but held tight rather than let me tumble from the deck. And as he held on, I felt raw power surge through me with blinding brightness.

I was aware. Aware of everything. The light was like a web of millions of gossamer fibers, and I was at its center, holding every string. I was aware of how the light flooded the hangar, the way it illuminated each soldier and Grisha. I was aware of its colors: the muddy brown light reflecting off the uniforms of Nikolai’s soldiers, the grey light reflecting off the uniforms of the _oprichniki,_ the red and blue light reflecting off of the _kefta_ of the Darkling’s Grisha.

I took hold of the grey, the red, and the blue strings and focused them into scythes of pure light. I brought down my arms in the Cut. All over the hangar, Grisha and _oprichniki_ collapsed, cleaved into two pieces. Nikolai’s soldiers were left unharmed.

“Mal! The lines!” Tamar shouted.

Mal let go of my wrist, and suddenly the power winked out. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath as the power left my body. The _Bittern_ lurched and plunged from the ledge, then the sails snapped into place and we were rising.

I looked up at Mal, who was pale and panting, and I knew it wasn’t just from the strain of working the lines. I knew. It made no sense, but I knew.

Mal was the third amplifier.

“Tolya!” I heard Genya call from behind me. I could hear the panic in her voice, though she was clearly trying to hide it. I turned to see that she was kneeling next to Adrik, trying to staunch the bleeding where a _nichevo’ya_ had taken a massive bite from his shoulder. But Genya was no healer, and as I watched Adrik’s eyes began to roll back in his head. The _Bittern_ suddenly dipped as Nadia cried out, her eyes wide with terror.

“Keep us steady, Nadia,” Tamar demanded over the rush of wind. “Tolya, help him!”

…

“Where are we headed, anyway?” asked Zoya.

“To the copper mine at Murin,” said Tamar. “To the firebird.”

There was a brief silence. Then I spoke.

“Tamar,” I said slowly. “The firebird isn’t the third amplifier.”

She swore softly. “Saints, Alina, you’re telling me this now?”

“She just found out,” Mal said from where he was working the lines. My stomach flipped.

“And how would you know?” Zoya asked, raising one impeccable eyebrow.

“Because he’s the third amplifier,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Zoya said, the color draining from her face. The _Bittern_ dipped again, and Zoya started and refocused her efforts on summoning. But it was clear that she was disconcerted.

I ran a hand through my hair. Nikolai would have come up with a plan, set a new direction, revealed yet another secret that he’d kept up his sleeve. But he wasn’t here. I made a small choking noise and wiped the beginnings of tears from my eyes. If I let myself think about Nikolai, I would probably cease to function. We had to keep going.

“Tamar, are there any other potential landing sites that are closer than Murin?” I said.

“The only ones I know off the top of my head are west of the Shadow Fold,” she said, “And we shouldn’t try to cross it in our current state, let alone after we’ve already been flying for over a day straight. But you can check what’s on the maps.”

I retrieved the maps, waking my inner cartographer, and began to pore over the charts with Tamar, who was somehow managing to keep hold of the wheel at the same time.

“Remember, the landing site has to be isolated,” Mal called. “So that we won’t be discovered.”

“And don’t forget, we’re supposed to be meeting the Soldat Sol in two weeks at Caryeva,” added Tolya. “We shouldn’t be too far from there, in case something goes wrong and we can’t get the _Bittern_ back in the air.”

“You’re not making this any easier,” Tamar shouted back.

“Zoya, Nadia, can you get us to Murin?” I asked. It still seemed like the best option. Isolated, this side of the Fold, close to Caryeva as well as Keramzin, and obscure enough to be off the Darkling’s radar. It was far, but I needed to believe our Squallers had some reserve of strength to call on.

“I know I can,” said Zoya.

Nadia lifted her chin, grinning. “Try to keep up.”

I would have smiled, if my heart had still been intact. “We’ll land at Murin, then make a plan for what to do next.”

“That still doesn’t solve our problem with being spotted from below,” said Mal.

David glanced up from bandaging the powder burns on his hand. “What if you tried bending the light?”

…

Nikolai was perched in the branches of a tree, his dark gaze fastened on me.

I made a small noise of shock. His chest was bare and lined in black as if darkness had shattered beneath his skin. He’d lost his boots somewhere, and his bare feet gripped the bark. His toes had become black talons.

He had dried blood on his hands. And near his mouth.

“Nikolai?” I whispered. My heart was a fragile thing inside my chest, made of glass and eggshell strung together with fraying threads.

He flinched back. Those threads around my heart trembled. I couldn’t bear to see him this way, broken and defeated for the first time, afraid of who he was.

“Nikolai, wait —”

But he leapt into the air, dark wings shaking the branches as he broke through them to the blue sky beyond.

The strings snapped and my heart fell to pieces, a thousand shards of pain and grief and loss that scattered on the wind. I pressed my fist to my mouth to bottle up the sound of my wailing. I sank to the forest floor, sobbing myself hoarse. And even then, I kept crying, my chest rising and falling in silent, racking gasps. I kept thinking of Nikolai’s torn trousers and had the foolish thought that he’d be mortified to see his clothes in such a state. How much of him was left inside that tortured body? Was he a prisoner, forced to watch as his own claws slew innocents at the monster’s direction? Or was there no monster, and he was merely acting from a hunger so ravenous that it would drive my prince to this?

A wave of guilt crashed over me. I didn’t save him. I didn’t tell him I loved him. I didn’t kiss him back.

I’d lied to Nikolai. I’d lied to myself. I’d loved him — I loved him still. And I’d denied it, like a fool. And now I’d lost him, probably forever.

I had to clap my hands over my mouth as I began to sob anew.

Tolya found me there, head buried in my arms, coat covered in green needles.

“It’s getting dark,” he said. “It’s not safe to be out alone.”

“I’m the Sun Summoner. It gets dark when I say it does.”

He sat down beside me, and for several moments we just sat together in silence.

“We met Nikolai at a poetry reading,” he said. “We being me and Tamar.”

I lifted my head, though I didn’t turn to look at Tolya. I just stared straight ahead.

“When Tamar and I fled the Shu Han, we went to Kerch. We were hoping on selling our skills as purely martial mercenaries, so as not to attract attention, and there isn’t a much better place to sell your services — or yourself — than Ketterdam.

“We’d only been there for a day or two, only just getting our search for a patron started, when I found out that there was a poetry reading at the university. So of course we went, though Tamar complained the whole way there.

“Some of the works were quite good, actually. But the last man to go, they made this big fuss over because he was the second prince of Ravka and all that. And then he got up, and his poem was…” Tolya laughed, and I finally turned to look at him. I’d rarely ever heard the big Heartrender laugh before, and the fact that he could be smiling now even after so much had gone wrong? It stirred something deep inside of me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite as bad in my entire life,” Tolya finished. “But when he finished, and everyone was clapping and gushing over him, Tamar and I, we just looked at each other. Nikolai must have seen that look because he came over and asked our opinions on his poem. I tried to suggest some works that maybe he could use as reference to improve his skills with, but Tamar just told him to move on from poetry. And he’d laughed, and congratulated her for managing to stay awake if she really thought his poem was that bad. And then she told him that she would have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t for the fact that I kept bumping up her heart beat whenever it got too drowsy.” He grinned at the memory.

“It was a terrible risk to let him know that we were Grisha, but… You know how Nikolai is. He’s the sort of person who makes terrible risks worth taking.”

“And that’s how you joined his crew?” I breathed.

He nodded. “There wasn’t much of it then, just Privyet and a few others. We were his first Grisha, actually.”

We sat in silence for a few moments.

“I loved him,” I said quietly.

“We all did.”

“No, like... I should have just told him how I felt. Instead I just kept rejecting all of his stupid marriage proposals, and now look where that got me.”

Tolya made a soft humming sound. “You know,” he said, “I’ve never fully believed what I’ve heard about those proposals he made to you at the Spinning Wheel. Nikolai was confident enough that it shouldn’t have been a problem for him to ask you outright, instead of doing weird things like just handing you a ring. The only real explanation I have for it is that there was something about you that threw him off balance. I think he felt the same way about you as you did about him.”

For a moment, my heart lifted, but then the reality of what had happened to Nikolai came crashing down around me. There was a reason we were talking in the past tense.

“Not that it matters, now,” I said, laughing bitterly.

“No, I think it does matter,” said Tolya thoughtfully. “Nikolai was drawn to you not because you could summon light, but because you are a light. And I think you should remember that. We’re not here to follow your power, Alina; we’re here to follow _you.”_

He stood up at that, and offered me his hand. I took it and stood, brushing the needles from my coat, then followed him back to the mine.

By the time we got all the way down to the crater floor, it was full dark and the others had lit lanterns beneath the overhang.

“You know, it was quite annoying to have to light these while knowing the whole time that we had a human nightlight,” Zoya said. She was sitting next to Mal. “You certainly took your time.”

There was no point to hiding my tearstained face so I just said, “Turned out I needed a good cry.”

***

“The Darkling will likely move on West Ravka now,” Tamar said.

It was early the next morning, and we were gathered around one of Tamar’s maps.

“I’m not too sure,” I said. “I think I killed most of his Squallers; he may not have enough to man the skiffs.”

“You _what?”_ Zoya was staring at me, her mouth hanging open.

I rubbed my arm, feeling self-conscious as everyone’s gaze turned to rest on me. “I used the Cut,” I said. “Back at the Spinning Wheel, right as we were leaving.”  
“On everyone?” Zoya asked.

I swallowed. “On the Darkling’s Grisha and his _oprichniki,”_ I said.

I’d killed a lot of people, I realized. It was the sort of thing the Darkling might do. I felt bile rising in my throat. My friends had followed me because they thought I was different. But was I, really?

“You saved our men,” Tamar breathed.

I looked at her, expecting to see horror in her eyes, and instead only seeing awe and gratitude.

“How did you do it?” asked David. He didn’t seem disturbed by my actions, either. He just seemed interested.

“The Grisha were wearing blue and red _kefta,”_ I said, “and the _oprichniki_ were in black. So I just used the Cut with the red, blue, and black light.”

David nodded eagerly, his eyes shining as he thought it through.

“Still,” said Nadia, “that’s insane. How did you know you could do that?”

“I didn’t,” I said, honestly. “But when Mal took my wrist, I suddenly _could._ I could have done anything. That’s how I know he’s the third amplifier.”

Harshaw whistled, but I watched Zoya as she looked at Mal, her eyes full of… Fear. She was afraid of losing him, I realized. She was afraid of us killing him and wrapping his bones around my wrist.

She loved him. Just like how I loved Nikolai. I wouldn’t let her lose him. I wouldn’t put her through the pain that even now was clawing at my throat. And I wasn’t about to let myself lose my best friend, either.

“We’re not going to kill Mal,” I said. I meant it.

Zoya looked relieved, but still troubled. “What I don’t understand,” she said, “is how.”

So I told them Baghra’s story, of Morozova and his _otkazat’sya_ daughter who died and was resurrected as an amplifier, the daughter who was Mal’s ancestor.

It was quiet when I finished. Then Harshaw spoke.

“Good to know, but it still doesn’t tell us what our plan for the day is,” he said. 

I smiled weakly. “So none of you are concerned by the fact that I’m basically a murder machine?”

Zoya looked at me fiercely, her piercing blue eyes reading my exact fears.

“You weren’t murdering the Grisha,” she said. “You were saving Nikolai’s men. The Darkling would have never done that. He would have either left them to die, or he would have killed everyone in the room, friend and foe. And he would never have picked a person over an amplifier.”

I surveyed the faces of my friends, and met Tolya’s gaze. He nodded.

 _We’re not here to follow your power, Alina; we’re here to follow_ you.

“If he can’t use the skiffs, he’ll need me to have access to the Fold,” I said. “So his first priority is going to be finding me or trying to smoke me out. He’ll use any information he has on us. Sergei wouldn’t have been able to give him directions to the White Cathedral, but…”

My breath caught as my gaze landed on a name on the map.

“Keramzin,” I whispered. “He knows I’m from there. Sergei could have told him about the students. Saints, they’re in danger.”

I bit my lip, wishing I had Nikolai’s skill for planning. Wishing I had Nikolai with me. Wishing he could pull another magic trick to get us out of trouble. Wishing I could just hold his hand.

“We need to gather the students from Keramzin,” I said. “To protect them. It’s about two days of walking from here, based on the maps, but we can move faster if we take a small group.” I swept my gaze over my friends. I didn’t want to separate any couples, and as I wanted to take Tolya so he could carry our supplies, I’d need to leave Harshaw behind to work the lines of the _Bittern_.

“I’ll take Tolya and Adrik,” I said at last. “The rest of you, take the _Bittern_ to Caryeva. There’s a small marsh you can land in; Tamar and I saw it when we were looking for a landing site but decided it was too far. I won’t be with you, so make sure you stay elevated and avoid any settlements. Once we gather the students, we’ll come meet you in Caryeva.”

It wasn’t perfect, and I still had no clue what we were going to do after that. Nikolai would have known exactly what to do. But he also would have wanted me to try, so try I would.

It only took a few minutes for Tolya, Adrik, and myself to pack our things and move out. Tolya carried our tent and supplies so that Adrik and I could move faster. We kept up a brisk pace, even though it made my legs ache after a few hours.

I was glad I’d decided to bring Adrik. Between my trust in him and his removal from Nadia’s non stop worrying, he seemed truly happy for the first time since we’d left the Spinning Wheel. I had been a little concerned that he might slow us down, but I ended up being the slowest member of the group. This only seemed to make Adrik happier — he was delighted that he was no longer a burden.

When it started getting dark, Tolya insisted we make camp, pointing out that the Darkling needed to sleep, too, and that we would move faster if we were rested. Tolya and Adrik split the watches so I could get more sleep, so I got them to promise to wake me up before the sun rose. With me around, we didn’t need light to travel by — we had our own.

Tolya built a small fire at the base of the hill to cook dinner, and Adrik set to dispersing the smoke. I could have wept at the sight of him, summoning with one arm, determination in his eyes. My legs burned, but I finished climbing the hill in order to survey the land ahead of us as the sun set.

On the horizon, I could just barely make out chimney smoke that must have marked either Keramzin or the neighboring village. My heart sighed with relief. If the Darkling had already arrived, there would have been a lot more smoke.

I heard a soft scraping sound from somewhere to my left. I turned and froze. Nikolai was perched atop a rock on the hillside. He was cleaner than he had been, but he wore the same ragged trousers. His taloned feet gripped the ridge of the rock, and his shadow wings beat gently at the air, his gaze black and unreadable.

Nikolai. Was he still in there? Could we bring him back? Had he heard me, when I had said that I’d loved him? Did he recognize me?

Carefully, I reached into my pocket, afraid any sudden movement might make him bolt.

I held out my hand, the Lantsov emerald resting on my palm. He stilled, then folded his wings and leapt soundlessly from the rock. It was hard not to back away, not to scream and sob at the sight of him. I didn’t want to be afraid, but the way he moved was so inhuman. He was still beautiful, but without those clever hazel eyes of his, it wasn’t _him._

He stalked toward me slowly, eyes focused on the ring. When he was less than a foot away, he hesitated, then reached out and plucked the emerald up in his claws.

“It’s —” The words died on my lips. Nikolai turned my palm over and slid the ring onto my finger.

I wept, simultaneously overcome with joy and grief. He knew me. He recognized me. But he was still trapped as a monster.

He pointed to my hand and made a sweeping gesture. It took me a second to grasp his meaning. He was imitating the way I moved when I summoned.

“You want me to call the light?”

His face stayed blank. I let sunlight pool in my palm. “This?”

The glow seemed to galvanize him. He seized my hand and slapped it against his chest. My breath caught in my throat at his touch. I had missed it, I had longed for it. But he was a creature of darkness now, like the volcra who abhorred my light or the _nichevo’ya_ who were slain by the Cut. My light was a weapon to him now. I tried to draw away, but he held my hand in place. His grip was viselike, made stronger by whatever monstrous thing the Darkling had placed inside him.

I shook my head. “No.”

Again, he slapped my hand against his chest, the movement almost frantic.

“I don’t know what my power will do to you,” I protested.

The corner of his mouth curled, the faintest suggestion of Nikolai’s wry smile. I could almost hear him say, _Really, lovely, what could be worse?_ Beneath my hand, his heart beat — steady and human.

I released a long breath. “All right,” I said. “I’ll try.”

I summoned the barest bit of light, letting it flow through my palm. He winced, but held my hand firmly in place. I pushed a little harder, trying to direct the light into him, thinking of the spaces between, letting it seep through his skin.

And the black cracks on his torso began to recede. He was grimacing, he was in pain, but he waved me on, asking for more.

I called the light into him, watching the black veins fade and recoil. He was panting now, his eyes closed. A low, pained whine rose from his throat, but his grip around my wrist was iron.

Then I felt something push back, as if the darkness within him was fighting. It shoved against the light. It threatened to burst through, to drive me back, but I gritted my teeth and dug in. Nikolai was here, with me, and I was going to bring him back. At the thought of him, I sensed a window opening between the two of us, connecting us.

I felt a wave of pain crash over me. I was drowning in anguish, in hunger, in desperation, in darkness. Black claws shredded my insides while maws of broken teeth devoured my mind, my consciousness. The darkness flayed all reason from my thoughts, threatening to shatter my sanity under the viciousness of its assault.

Saints, this was what Nikolai was living with?

But there was a sense of… Familiarity. I recognized this darkness, and it recognized me in turn. It was _merzost,_ I realized. It was the same _merzost_ in the bite on my shoulder, the same _merzost_ that had greeted me when we had flown across the Shadow Fold. It was the same _merzost_ I had used in the chapel when I had reached across my connection with the Darkling to create monsters of my own, when I had stolen a piece of his power.

Perhaps I held some power, however small, over this _merzost_ as well.

I reached out, towards the darkness inside of Nikolai, with the power I had stolen from the Darkling. I tugged at its shadows. And, sensing the power of its master, the darkness stilled.

It did not abate, but the current of pain that was coursing through me ceased. The torment so clearly written on Nikolai’s face eased, and his eyes — though still black — gazed at me with what must have been hope.

We both looked at each other for a few moments, simply breathing. This was Nikolai, and I was never going to let him be taken from me.

I closed my eyes. There was only one way to destroy _merzost_ — the Cut. Ordinarily, to destroy it, I would have to kill Nikolai as well. The young, stubborn girl I had once been would have given up, shed several tears, and accepted Nikolai’s fate as a monster. But on the day of the attack on the Spinning Wheel, I had used the Cut with precision; I had cleared the hangar of the Darkling’s allies while leaving Nikolai’s soldiers unharmed. Could I not do the same here? Could I not destroy the _merzost_ without hurting Nikolai? With Baghra’s lessons, I had scaled up the Cut to slice through a mountain. Could I not scale it down now?

Baghra was gone, but the true message beneath all of her lessons rang through me now. She had always been so disappointed in everything I did, so unimpressed. It was because she knew just how much I was really capable of. It had always been my own doubt, my own fears that held me back — never my ability. I could do this. I would do this.

I would save my prince.

There may have been darkness in Nikolai, but there was light as well. I did not call it to me, instead I let myself go to it. The light was everywhere, even among the darkness of the _merzost._ It was always everywhere.

Thanks to the power I had stolen from the Darkling, I was precisely aware of where the darkness in Nikolai began and where it ended. I took hold of the light I needed, and raised my free hand in the Cut. Whereas before, the arc I had made had always been sweeping and dramatic, this time it was gentle, like the motion I had used when drawing as a cartographer.

The light focused, and sang, and honed into perfect sharpness that cleaved through the darkness. The _merzost_ burst into nothingness.

I opened my eyes, my blood fizzing with power, only to see Nikolai stumble, his knees buckling. I caught him, and he regained his feet, though he was still leaning on me. Or rather, I was holding him. I couldn’t help it. I blushed.

He blinked, about to say something, but all I could see were his eyes. They were hazel.

I kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
> Really Leigh Bardugo, you're going to have Alina cut a mountain in half, and then she doesn't do anything else impressive for the rest of the book? I ain't too sure about that one chief.  
> I hope y'all appreciate the moment with Tolya. I've always felt that he was under developed in the books. I've also always wondered how the Bataar twins got involved with Nikolai, so I seized on that one throw away line in Siege and Storm where Nikolai says that he tried epic poetry and it didn't work out too well.  
> As always, I love your comments! If you guys have any feedback, I would definitely appreciate it --- this is my first fic, after all. Hopefully the next chapter should be out before too long. It's either going to be the last or the second to last, depending on how long it is. Knowing me, it's probably going to be the latter.


	5. Sun and Sky (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention all passengers! The train is now leaving the rails!  
> There's gonna be a bit of a format change because we are no longer using the framework of the books anymore. This is all 100% my writing... hence its extreme length... xD  
> Last night, I worked on this instead of sleeping and I got around 10,000 words down... Oops. Nikolai is usually pretty hard to write well, but I happened to be really vibing so I took advantage of it. My priorities might need straightening.  
> I'm releasing the first half of that word vomit today after spending like 4 minutes editing it (3 am writing + basically no editing = success? surely?). I need to write a little bit more before I can release the second half (it's gonna be loooong), but expect that soon. I can already tell, we're going to need a lot more chapters. I wrote 10,000 words and not that much plot occurs, it's like almost all dialogue xD. But hey, y'all already know how chatty Nikolai is.  
> Prepare yourselves, and I'll meet you in the end notes.

“Captain?”

Nikolai took a step back, out of my arms, as we both turned to face Tolya. He was still standing with Adrik at the bottom of the hill, but was watching Nikolai. His voice was breathless, as if Nikolai would vanish if he spoke too loudly.

Nikolai wiped what had to be a tear from the corner of his eye and summoned his usual grin, even if it seemed somewhat shakier than usual. He started walking down the hill, turning his hands over in front of his eyes as if surprised by the lack of claws. I trailed in his wake. 

“Black was never really my color,” he said to no one in particular. “It clashes with the hair.”

Tolya’s smile of disbelief only widened as we reached him. “I’ll admit, not even I thought you were going to be able to come back from this one,” he said softly. “We all tried our best to hope, but it seemed impossible.”

“Improbable,” Nikolai said. His voice was raw, but his smile turned genuine.

Tolya shook his head and took the pan of grouse off the fire. Adrik put it out with a gust of wind, and Nikolai’s eyes followed the motions of the Squaller’s one handed summoning. I could see his mind whirring, and I realized he was searching for Adrik’s name. It was a task that once would have been effortless for him, but now, his time as a monster divided him from his memories, from who he was.

But his smile didn’t falter. “Hello, Adrik,” he said after a few moments, and I felt some of that icy worry melt away from my bones. “Please tell me that you’re not all that remains of the Second Army. It would be rather a flattering statement of just how dependent on my leadership you are, but I imagine it would make fighting a war rather difficult.”

Adrik still seemed somewhat wary of Nikolai, and I suddenly became conscious of the state of his clothes. His shredded trousers, his bare chest. Without the black lines across his skin, it was now painfully obvious that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He had the muscles of a soldier, a sailor, a pirate — and the tan skin to match. The tan skin I had pressed myself against when I had held him just moments ago.

Tolya must have my blush, for he reached into his bag and tossed Nikolai the spare clothes he had packed. Nikolai put on the shirt, grimacing at how comically oversized it was for him, as I spoke.

“We’re not the only ones,” I said. “Mal, Tamar, Zoya, Nadia, David, Genya, Harshaw, and Misha all made it out on the  _ Bittern _ with us. Nevsky, Stigg, and most of the soldiers were still in the Spinning Wheel when we last saw them. I killed all of the Darkling’s Grisha and  _ oprichniki, _ but he and his monsters could have come back to hunt them down, so I don’t know how many of them actually got out.”

“Forgive me,” Nikolai said. “I only just regained my comprehension of language, and I don’t think I heard you correctly. Did you say you killed  _ all the Darkling’s Grisha?  _ And his  _ oprichniki _ too?”

Adrik’s wariness finally gave way to a grin. “You heard her correctly,” he said. “She can also turn things invisible, now, too.”

Nikolai went and sat down on one of the packs with a loud exhalation of breath, and I instinctively sat down next to him. He picked up my flask from where I had placed it with my bedroll and used its water and his overly long sleeve to wash his face. Adrik and Tolya sat as well, the Heartrender dividing the grouse up between the four of us and passing out the portions, saving the largest for himself.

Nikolai’s gaze dropped to my wrist — he thought we must have found the firebird. “Just how long have I been… Incapacitated?” he asked hoarsely, his brief hesitation betraying just how raw his emotions were. How scared of himself he still was.

“Less than seventy two hours,” Tolya answered.

Nikolai opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it and ran a hand through his hair. His expression was haunted, distant.

“And yet somehow I think it will take you just as long to catch me up on everything that has happened. Tell me about it tomorrow,” he said. “Let’s take it one world-shattering change at a time. Tonight, I just want to hear people talk. Tolya, tell us the Third Tale of Kregi.”

I groaned as I turned to Nikolai, my horror written on my face. He was grinning, but the last rays of the sunset were glinting off of tears in his eyes.

“Adrik, you take first watch,” Tolya said. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and solemnly began his recitation. I made a gagging expression, but Nikolai leaned in, actually listening to every word.

Adrik, the dread in his face matching my own, finished his dinner as quickly as he could and scampered off to keep watch. As soon as he was gone, Nikolai leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“It’s getting dark,” he said, the warmth of his breath raising goosebumps along my skin. “Would you mind summoning a little bit of light for me?”

_ The king of Ravka needs a nightlight? _ I almost asked him, but the fear in his eyes — which had been onyx black a matter of minutes beforehand — stopped the words in my throat. I summoned the last tendrils of sunlight as they dipped below the horizon and cupped them in my palm. 

He gently took hold of my wrists, his gaze fixed on that golden glow of light in my hands as the sky around them turned black. His grip was warm, and he still had his sailor’s calluses. The monster had not taken those from him.

Tolya’s poetry began to blur against my ears, becoming background like the rhythm of rain on a roof. I was only aware of the touch of Nikolai’s skin against my own.

“Your last words to me, before the  _ merzost _ took hold of you…” I began hesitantly, keeping my voice low so that Tolya wouldn’t hear. He tore his gaze from my hands to my face, his expression grim once more.

“I… I meant it, Alina,” he whispered. “But if you don’t want it…”

“Did you hear what I said after that?” I asked. He shook his head, his expression somewhere between concerned and hopeful.

“I love you, too,” I breathed.  
He blinked at me, the tears that had been gathering in his eyes now spilling forth and running freely down his cheeks as he smiled, really smiled. He shifted to press against my side and wrapped an arm around my waist. 

“I suppose I should have known from the kiss,” he said.

I could have sworn Tolya’s poetry got just a little bit louder.

I woke to hands tightening on my arm, not even realizing I had dozed off against Nikolai’s shoulder. My summoning had stopped, and night had fallen. It was dark.

“Alina,” Nikolai whispered urgently. I could just make out the shape of his face in the darkness. “Light. Please.”

I nodded and reached for the light. I could feel the sunlight, hot and intense, below the horizon, but I opted for starlight instead, wrapping my skin in it. I’d already done this unconsciously before; perhaps it would last while I slept.

I heard Nikolai’s jagged intake of breath, and I also felt his chest expand where he was pressed against me. 

Suddenly, Adrik’s voice called out of the darkness. “Alina, I’m pretty sure the whole world can see you. You’re not very good at the whole ‘stealth mission’ thing.”

I laughed softly. Tolya cracked open an eye without pausing in his poetry, only to shut it again, unimpressed.

I took the blanket from my bedroll and lay down upon the grass. Nikolai did the same beside me, and I turned to face him. I laid the blanket over the two of us, cloaking us from sight. The glow of my skin filled our little space, illuminating the dark green of the blanket and the hazel of Nikolai’s eyes.

He reached out and slowly ran a finger along my cheek. My breath caught in my throat.

“I never got to tell you,” he whispered, “but back at the Spinning Wheel, when you did this… I couldn’t breathe. I meant to tell you, then, that I loved you… But I couldn’t find the air to speak.”

His fingers slipped under my chin, then followed the curve beneath my jaw until they reached the base of my ear. I leaned forwards to rest my forehead against the hollow between his neck and shoulder, and he moved his hand behind my head. I released a shuddering sigh as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“I knew I’d fallen in love with you as soon as I saw the white hair,” he said. “I’d liked you before then, but I didn’t admit it to myself. I remember holding your hand under the table at my birthday dinner and thinking that it was the best present I could have asked for. But I think it started before then, maybe even as far back as when you kicked me in the shin after I kissed you. I just didn’t realize it..”

“For me,” I said slowly, “I think it started with the kiss by the pier.” Unbidden, I recalled the scent of woodsmoke and summer. “But… I was afraid that you didn’t like me back, and so I… I didn’t want to end up like…”

“Like my mother,” he finished.

“Yeah,” I breathed against him. “These last couple of days, I was really beating myself up over not telling you. I thought I’d never see you again.”

His arm slid down to my back and pulled me closer to him.

“How are you?” I asked. I felt him sigh.

“Not okay,” he said softly. “But I’m more okay now that I’m with you.”

My glow managed to last even while I slept. I knew because Nikolai woke me several times whenever he had a nightmare. Each time, we did the same thing. I would wake to his arms tightening around me, and I would gently shake him awake. His eyes would flutter open and he would take my face in his hands. He would look into my eyes, his breathing slowing, then at his hands, pale and unscarred. We would whisper each other’s names and drift back to sleep. 

Eventually, I woke not to Nikolai, but to the gentle press of a boot against my back. My starry glow was fading.

“Don’t make me take that blanket off,” I heard Adrik say. “There are things in this world that I don’t want to see.”

“I’m awake,” I groaned, and I heard him sigh with relief as his footsteps moved away from us. Nikolai was still asleep, his body tense. I shook him gently. His eyes immediately flicked open, wide with fear, but he calmed when he saw me, exhaling loudly. 

“Good morning,” I said, then tossed the blanket back. The sky was still dark, but it was pale enough that the stars had disappeared. I let go of the starlight and reached instead for the rays of the sun that were hidden just below the horizon. They came easily, and I bathed the entire campsite in a gentle glow.

Adrik loaned Nikolai a pair of pants to replace his shredded ones, since Tolya’s were simply too big to be an option. Adrik hadn’t brought along a spare shirt, since it would have been too inconvenient to unpin and repin the sleeves each time, so Nikolai was still stuck with Tolya’s oversized one. Fortunately, though, Adrik did have several spare pins, so Nikolai was able to recover at least some dignity of appearance in shortening his sleeves and tightening his hems. It didn’t look like it fit, but it didn’t make you want to double over with laughter at the sight of him.

We started off, guided by my sunlight, as Tolya brought Nikolai up to date. Baghra’s death. Our departure on the  _ Bittern _ and my use of the Cut on the Darkling’s allies. Mal being the third amplifier and Morozova’s descendent. Our flight to Murin. My nascent ability to turn objects invisible. Our suspicion that the Darkling was headed for Keramzin and our decision to relocate the Grisha students, then meet with the Soldat Sol in Caryeva.

He’d winced at the description of Baghra’s death, and looked openly shocked at the revelation of Mal’s amplifier status, but otherwise he took most of the news well. He was quiet for a few moments, thinking, processing.

“So what’s the plan after we get to Caryeva?” he asked at last.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Good,” he said with a grin, “because that means  _ I _ get to think of one.”

The sun rose and I let go of my summoning, but we kept up the pace. Even with my joy at my reunion with Nikolai, I still had to remind myself that Keramzin was in danger. We walked mostly in silence to avoid wasting breath. Nikolai kept close to me as we walked, and split his time between watching me and staring at his hands. I found his silence unusual, if not unnerving. Eventually, though, he spoke.

“You know, about the ring on your finger…” Nikolai began. “I didn’t technically ask you anything when I put it on your hand, and you didn’t say anything either, but judging by the fact that you haven’t taken it off, does that mean…”

“Yes, Nikolai,” I said, smiling. “I’ll marry you.”

Nikolai’s grin was almost wider than his face. We stopped walking as he threw his arms around me and buried his face in my shoulder. I heard Adrik make a gagging sound, but Tolya was beaming. I ruffled Nikolai’s hair, and he lifted his head and kissed me. Then I took his hand and we started walking again.

“Now, let’s see if Ana Kuya approves of you,” I said. 

He faked a horrified expression. “I have to meet her dressed like this!” he exclaimed. “How could I possibly hope to impress her?”

We all laughed at that. “I have a feeling,” I said, “that her eyes will start to glaze over by the time you reach  _ Grand Duke of Udova _ in your list of titles.”

“You’re not going to make me recite all of them, are you?”

I poked his arm. “I think at this point you can just leave it as ‘Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka.’”

He pouted. “Technically, I haven’t been crowned yet, so I’m not king.”

“Ah, yes, then you can always say, ‘Hello, I am Nikolai Lantsov, a man too obsessed with semantics to call himself the King of Ravka.’”

We continued on, approaching the road between Keramzin and the town. We’d made good time; it was still only mid morning. We’d skirted the edges of civilization thus far, but now there was no avoiding the road. Adrik took the lead, checking that the way was clear, before starting towards Keramzin. Nikolai and I followed a short distance behind him, with Tolya dropping into position at the rear.

I sped up without meaning too, forcing my companions to quicken their pace as well. The road’s curves were all too familiar. When we crested a hill, and the white pillars of the gate became visible, I started running, the others hastening to keep up.

The iron gate was shut, but unlocked. It groaned as I pushed it open and started down the gravel drive towards the house.

Everything was the exact same as I remembered it. The house, the oak I had once climbed on a dare, the open fields that Mal would cross when he returned from his hunting trips. There was even a face in one of the windows that vanished when I looked closer. I turned back to my friends, smiling, then ran to the front door. By the time they caught up, I was already knocking. I turned to see Nikolai fussing with the pins in the shirt, still trying to fix it as best he could. I was laughing when the door opened.

I heard Ana Kuya gasp as I turned back to her. I supposed we were quite a sight to behold: a giant, a one-armed Grisha, a prince in an oversized shirt, and me — a white-haired Saint with a gold  _ kefta  _ and a bone collar.

There was a stunned silence. “Alina?” Ana Kuya asked breathlessly, her eyes wide. She was wearing the same black dress she’d always worn, and her key ring still hung from the same spot at her waist. Her black curls had started to grey in the years since I’d last seen her, and she had a few more wrinkles, but otherwise she looked the same. I, on the other hand… It was no wonder it took her so long to recognize me.

“Hello,” I said. “I have a lot to tell you. Can we come in?”

We were seating ourselves at the kitchen table when several of the Grisha students poked their heads into the room.

“Adrik!” someone cried, and a Zemeni girl with brown skin and braids darted into the room and threw her arms around the Squaller. He blushed slightly.

“Hi, Leoni,” he said. She suddenly backed away, and her mouth fell open.

“He lost his arm to a  _ nichevo’ya,” _ Tolya said, filling in what the girl had obviously been about to ask so that Adrik didn’t have to.

“Those creatures were why we evacuated you guys here in the first place,” I explained to Leoni and the other students who were gathered around the doorframe. I hoped they wouldn’t ask about why Adrik had been able to come with us. His lack of an arm would go a long way to quelling any jealousy they might have had.

“Sankta Alina?” another student asked. She was a tall Ravkan girl with long brown hair and piercing green eyes.

I nodded and held out my palm, calling a sliver of sunlight to illuminate the glow before lowering my hand.

“I didn’t believe a word of those tales that I kept hearing,” Ana Kuya said after shooing the students from the room, her voice more respectful than it had ever been when speaking to me. “It was bad enough when it was just Alina Starkov the Sun Summoner, here to free Ravka from the Fold. But then after that coup, or whatever it was, I started hearing about Sankta Alina, daughter of Keramzin. More than a few pilgrims came here and I had to chase them away with a broom.

“And then, out of the blue, three Grisha and a Shu mercenary arrive at my door with a gaggle of children, and tell me that the Sun Summoner has decreed they were to be housed here. I couldn’t exactly turn them out. You really should have asked before you sent them,” she said, her usual frown briefly returning to her face. For a moment, I was a girl again, being scolded by the housekeeper for some trivial infraction. But then she paused and her smile returned, her eyes on my hand that had called forth the light. “I must admit, I’m inclined to believe the tales now. You certainly look more like a Saint now than you did when I last saw you.”

I smiled as Nikolai squeezed my hand. Ana Kuya’s gaze noted the action, and her eyebrows raised.

“As for my companions, this is Tolya Yul-Bataar, a Heartrender,” I said quickly as I gestured with my free hand towards the Shu, then turned and pointed to where Adrik was talking with the students. “That’s Adrik Zhabin, a Squaller. And this is…” I turned towards Nikolai.

He grinned. “Nikolai Lantsov, Alina’s fiancé.”

Ana Kuya had to lean against the counter to keep from fainting. Her face pale, she bowed deeply.

_ “Moi tsar,” _ she began, but Nikolai cut her off with a wave.

“Nikolai is fine, for you at least,” he said, smiling.

I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid we didn’t just stop by to say hello. We came because we’re worried the Darkling might march here, and so we need to evacuate you and all the students. Is the Duke home?”

Ana Kuya blinked, then shook her head, her face still pale. “He’s been in Os Alta for some time.”

I nodded. “I don’t know how much time we have,” I said, “so we need to hurry. We’re heading to Caryeva, so you’ll need to pack a few day’s worth of food and supplies for everyone. We’ll leave as soon as we’re ready.”

The housekeeper nodded, then set her shoulders and began shouting orders to the various Grisha students with familiar strictness. I took Nikolai and Tolya to fetch the pony cart.

The Duke’s carriage and its horses were gone, but his two riding horses were still in their stalls. The pony, of course, was still there as well. We hitched it up and led it back to the house, where he assisted both Grisha and orphanage children in loading the cart with supplies. The three Grisha instructors appeared, bowing to me and Nikolai as they did their best to organize the preparations. They seemed unwilling to give instructions to either me, Nikolai, or Adrik, so the three of us did our best to stay out of the way.

“The big girl came back again,” I heard a familiar voice say. My face lit up in a smile as I turned to see Botkin crunching across the gravel drive.

He smiled broadly, the rope of scar tissue at his throat stretching with the motion. I introduced Nikolai to Botkin, who frowned thoughtfully at the prince.

“Very strong, for prince. But big girl could still beat him in fight,” he said, and I laughed. He turned his frown towards Adrik and his missing arm.

“Botkin can teach tough boy to fight,” he said to Adrik.

“Really?” Adrik breathed. The stump at his shoulder twitched.

“Botkin can teach anyone to fight,” Botkin said. “But not now. Now, loud woman tell Botkin to move potatoes.”

He meant Ana Kuya, I realized. I laughed myself hoarse as Botkin moved off towards the root cellar, where he joined Tolya and began a conversation in rapid Shu.

While the others worked, I took it upon myself to move some of Ana Kuya’s most beloved objects to the cellar. Nikolai joined me, and I soon found myself telling him stories associated with each object. It seemed like barely any time had passed before Ana Kuya told me that we were ready to depart.

It must have taken us less than an hour to finish, for the sun hadn’t even reached its zenith yet when we set out. The Grisha instructors insisted that Nikolai and I ride the two horses from the Duke’s stables, but I knew that Ana Kuya’s bones were too old to walk all the way to Caryeva, so I offered the bay gelding to her and joined Nikolai on the grey mare. I couldn’t really ride a horse, anyways. And I would have taken advantage of any excuse to sit behind Nikolai and wrap my arms around his waist.

Adrik led the way, the Zemeni girl — Leoni, that was her name — helping him hold the map. Several of the students regularly attempted to sneak onto the cart so that they didn’t have to walk, only to be barked at by Ana Kuya for slowing down the pony. Tolya had shouldered several sacks to lighten the cart and let the pony walk faster, but the brown haired and green eyed girl from before had to pull at the pony’s harness so that it would keep up the pace. Ana Kuya said she’d picked the girl because she was the only one more stubborn than the pony.

“Where do you keep finding all these vicious old women?” Nikolai whispered over his shoulder to me. “I thought I was finally free from Baghra’s venom, may she rest in peace, only to meet her spitting image.”

I stifled my laughter at his words and blinked away my tears at the reference to Baghra. I missed her. But unlike Nikolai, there was no way to get her back.

It fully sank in then. Nikolai — the Nikolai I’d thought I’d lost forever, the Nikolai I loved — he was back. I squeezed him tighter around the waist and lay my head against his shoulder, tears trickling from my eyes but a smile upon my face. His left hand let go of the reins for a second, and he reached down to pat my leg.

We rode like that — quiet, but together — for a while, listening to the others. But then I started to feel a pulling in the bite at my shoulder, and my stomach dropped.

Every time that had happened before… I swore. Faces turned towards me.

“The Darkling is nearby,” I said.

Voices around me broke into anxious murmuring, the Grisha instructors turned towards me with questioning voices, and Tolya ran to my side. Nikolai gritted his teeth.

“If he reaches Keramzin, he’ll see our tracks,” he said. Dozens of prints from feet and hooves, the wheels of the pony cart… The Darkling wouldn’t need Mal to track us.

“Saints,” I breathed, surveying the children around us. I would do anything to protect them. To protect Nikolai.

But would I turn myself over to the Darkling?

“Is there anything we can do to distract him?” Nikolai asked.

Suddenly the stress that had threatened to overwhelm me dissipated. I had Nikolai with me. The too-clever fox could get us out of this trap. And as my fear subsided, an idea came to my mind. I swallowed.

“Adrik, Tolya,” I called. “Keep heading south, as fast as you can. We’ll meet you in Caryeva.”

They were taken aback by my words, and Tolya moved to speak, but I cut them off with my best Saint impression.

“Nikolai, turn us around,” I said. “Take us as far away from our friends as possible. And let’s make a distraction.”

Tolya shook his head. “It’s far too dangerous. The idea’s absurd.”

Nikolai smiled faintly. “Then that means it’s the best plan of action,” he said. Then he spurred his horse and steered us off the road.

We broke into a gallop, tearing across fields and slopes back in the direction of Keramzin, but farther west. I held tightly to Nikolai’s waist as he spurred the horse faster, faster, faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, was that a ~~cliffhanger ending~~? You know I had to do it to 'em.  
> Well, that was the 4,500 word version of "They walked to Keramzin and evacuated the students." I hoped it had all the humor and fluff that you expect from Nikolina. Y'all are fantastic for reading my ramblings, I love every single person who comments or leaves kudos or just reads it. Can you believe I have over 32,000 words in the google doc of this fic? It has now passed the length of the novel I've been drafting for like a year now, and this document isn't even a month old. I've become a monster.  
> And if you thought this chapter seemed short... Next chapter is going to be almost twice this length. Oh my. It'll be out soon, so I'll see you then.


	6. Sun and Sky (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is over 8000 words long. Oops. But once Nikolai gets started talking, he really can't stop.  
> I did not edit this, except for like the first and last paragraphs, so... We'll see what happens. I just wrote way too much to read over. I have no one to blame except myself. T_T  
> You guys all already have enough to read below, so I won't delay you any longer. I love you all, and I'll see you in the end notes.

We had reached Trivka’s pond, about half a mile west of Keramzin, when we sighted the dark cloud of  _ nichevo’ya _ headed towards us. I placed a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder, and he reined in the horse. I pointed to a copse on a hill in the distance.

“Bring us to a halt under one of the trees,” I said, and he nodded. As the horse started running again, I turned to watch the rapidly approaching army of the Darkling.

I imagined myself back at the Spinning Wheel, Baghra at my side and Nikolai on the terrace behind me. I had lashed out with the Cut at a mountain that had been miles away then. We were even closer now.

I focused on where the darkness of the monsters was thickest, then called myself to the light.  _ The Cut is already made. _ I brought my arm down, and an entire sky’s worth of sunlight honed to a scythe, a scythe that cleaved through  _ merzost  _ and  _ nichevo’ya _ and darkness.

A blue stripe appeared in the dark cloud, and the horde stopped moving. Its ranks began to reform as my blood roared for more. I brought my arms down in the Cut again. And again. And again. And again, tearing the Darkling’s precious army to shreds.

The horse came to a stop. We had reached the copse. “Alina?” Nikolai asked.

“See if you can do anything to erase our tracks,” I said.

He grinned. “I guess I’ll get to see your invisibility up close and personal,” he said as he slid off the horse. I smiled back as he set off down the hill. I lifted my hands and twisted my wrists, focusing on gathering the light, doing my best to hide Nikolai from sight as he brushed over the prints the horse’s hooves had left in the hillside.

The cloud of  _ nichevo’ya  _ had started moving again. They had changed their course, heading directly for us instead of towards Keramzin. I released a sigh of relief.

_ Strange, _ I thought,  _ who would have guessed I could feel relieved with the Darkling and his pack of monsters charging at me? _

Nikolai came running back up the hill, and I focused hard on keeping him invisible. I doubted that the Darkling or the monsters would have been able to see him at that distance, but it was good practice to cloak a moving target. I didn’t do a perfect job of it, but it was good enough.

He moved to climb back atop the horse, but I held out my hand for him to wait. “Keep the horse calm,” I said. “If the  _ nichevo’ya  _ get too close and it panics, it could give us away.”

He nodded and took the mare’s bridle in one hand, while he used the other to stroke its neck and side. He drew his hand all the way back to the stirrups, where he ran his fingers across my bare knee, before moving his hand back to the horse’s neck. If it hadn’t been for the stress of the situation, I would have either snorted at him or kicked him. As it was, I stayed silent and twisted the light around my hands, hiding me, Nikolai, and the horse from sight.

The  _ nichevo’ya _ drew lower to the ground as they approached, and spread out. They were searching. Nikolai shut the blinders on the horse’s bridle and began to stroke the length of its nose. He shut his eyes, and I could see he was shaking every so slightly. If my hands hadn’t been busy holding the light, I would have reached out to hold him.

The first  _ nichevo’ya  _ flew past over head. Then there came more, and more, swerving low over the ground. One flew right through the copse, darting between the trees only a few yards away from where we were standing. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and my throat was bone dry, but I kept hold of the light.

Still the monsters flew past. I could see the center of the horde was passing perhaps a quarter of a mile to the north of us, and not directly overhead as I had dared to hope. I couldn’t see the Darkling, and it was far too risky to lash out blindly and try to strike him. I would have to drop the invisibility to use the Cut, and if I missed — as I probably would — our cover would be blown. I wasn’t going to let the Darkling get his hands on Nikolai again.

Eventually, the rustling of wings faded as the last stragglers moved on. I didn’t drop the invisibility, though.

“Get back on the horse,” I whispered to Nikolai. He lifted his head, and I could see he’d been crying, but he climbed back atop the saddle.

“Let’s head back to the others,” I said, “but go slowly for now. I can’t move my arms.”

Nikolai nodded and spurred the horse into a walk. I leaned against him, resting my chin on his shoulder, but kept my hands raised as I focused on keeping us invisible while we moved.

We walked south for about fifteen minutes, until we were about a mile south of Keramzin and the Darkling’s cloud of  _ nichevo’ya _ was far in the distance, before we turned and headed for the road. Once we were on the track, I let the invisibility drop and placed my hands around Nikolai’s waist, sighing with the exertion of maintaining my focus and power. He urged the horse into a canter and I shut my eyes, happy to just inhale his scent — though the shirt still smelled like Tolya.

Perhaps I would have fallen asleep like that, to the rocking of the horse and the lullaby of its hoofbeats. But I was pulled from my reverie by Nikolai’s voice.

“It was the wings,” he rasped. “They sounded just like mine.”

I was quiet, not wanting to interrupt him, but I tapped my thumb against his ribs to let him know I was listening.

“I don’t really remember it,” he said. “Just brief flashes here and there. At the time, I wasn’t able to remember anything that had happened, either before or after the  _ merzost. _ I merely lived from one moment to the next. I couldn’t read, I couldn’t understand speech, I was just following you — your face and your hair were about the only thing I could recognize.”

My throat swelled, and it hurt to breathe. I remembered when I had destroyed the  _ merzost  _ inside of him, I had gotten a brief glimpse into his mind, and into the pain and chaos and hunger that was his life.

“The one memory I do have…” he said, hesitantly. He lapsed into silence, and I assumed he’d decided he didn’t want to talk about it. I laid my head against his warm back and listened to the drumming of the horse’s hoofbeats.

Suddenly, he spoke, his chest vibrating below my cheek.

“Alina, I… I  _ ate _ someone.”

His voice was hollow and broken. I didn’t know what to say. My lungs were lined with shards of glass.

“Multiple people, I think,” he continued. “I don’t even know how many, and that’s the worst part. I… I only remember one of them. But there were more. I think many more.”

“Nikolai…” I breathed.

“I only remember crouching over them, their blood on my claws, on my face, in my mouth… I don’t remember their face, I don’t even remember killing them, I just know that I did. I’d split open their chest, and… and… My claws… I was  _ eating  _ them, Alina — their insides — on my claws — in my mouth — Alina, I…”

“Nikolai,” I repeated. His breathing was rapid, shallow, and ragged.

He fell quiet again for several moments.

“When you kissed me, Alina,” he said at last, “their blood was still on my mouth.”

For a moment, I felt nauseous. I shut my eyes.

When I’d kissed him… Had I tasted blood? I replayed the moment in my mind. Already, the memory of his taste was fading. Had I…? I was going to be sick.

“You were afraid of me, Alina,” he said. “And rightfully so. I was afraid. I still am. I’m afraid of touching you with this blood on my hands. I’m afraid of kissing you with this blood on my mouth. I’m afraid of the dark, and I’m afraid of who I am.”

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. Nikolai… He didn’t deserve this.

“Stop the horse,” I said quietly. I felt Nikolai slump under my arms, but he pulled up on the reins and slowly brought us to a halt. I slipped from the back of the horse and took the reins from Nikolai’s hands. He dismounted and let me tie the horse to a tree at the side of the road.

I approached Nikolai slowly. When I came within arm’s reach, he stepped back, but I grabbed hold of his wrist. I stepped closer still, close enough that we were sharing breath, and paused, seeing if he would back away again. He didn’t.

“Nikolai,” I said. I held up his hand between us. “You do not have claws. Those claws belonged to the  _ merzost. _ That blood, that death, they belonged to the  _ merzost. _ But this hand?” I traced a finger along his palm, down the length of his middle finger. “This hand belongs to you. There is no blood on it. I do not fear it.” To make my point clear, I placed it against my cheek. His palm was warm against my skin, which was cool with tears. I was crying, I realized. We were both crying.

I raised my other hand and placed it gently against his chest. “When the  _ merzost _ was inside you, it might have been next to your heart, but it did not destroy it. The  _ merzost _ is gone now. There is no darkness inside of you. That darkness, that hunger, they belonged to the  _ merzost. _ But your heart? It belongs to you. There is no blood on it. I do not fear it.”

I took a deep breath and took my hands away. Nikolai’s palm, however, did not leave my cheek. I stepped even closer to him, our chests touching, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I was looking up into his eyes, our noses an inch apart.

“You do not have fangs,” I whispered. “Those fangs belonged to the  _ merzost. _ That blood, that hunger, they belonged to the  _ merzost.  _ But your mouth? It belongs to you. There is no blood on it. I do not fear it.”

I kissed him.

We clung to each other, kissing as we cried, crying as we kissed. Our tears intermingled, running together until there was no distinction between them. We held each other tight, and even after my lips left his, we did not let go.

He was smiling now, even if he was still crying.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tolya,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“All that poetry is rubbing off on you.”

I threw my head back and laughed. Still smiling, I wiped the tears off of Nikolai’s face as he did the same for me.

“We should get back to the others before they start thinking that we died,”   
I said as I untied the horse and led it back to the road.

“That would probably be bad for morale,” Nikolai deadpanned. He climbed back into the saddle, then reached down to help me up behind him. I took hold of his waist and we set off down the road at a gallop.

We’d ridden around two or three miles when we caught up to the main group. We first saw them when we came around a corner, and then heard them cheering as we approached and slowed to walk beside them. Tolya was doing his best to look irritated, but his relief was too obvious to hide.

Nikolai waved at the students as they approached us, but I hastened them along.

“As much as I would have liked to, we weren’t able to take down the Darkling, so I’m afraid that we still have to keep up the pace,” I said.

“We’re nearing a crossing with the road to Tsemna,” Adrik replied. “Once we turn onto it, it will hide our tracks, and we can take the turn for Caryeva.”

I nodded. “I’ll need something to wear so that I won’t be recognized, though. The Grisha instructors, too.”

Luckily for us, Ana Kuya had foreseen this need, and had packed several dark wool cloaks that we traded for our  _ keftas. _ I drew my hood to hide my hair and collar, and we continued down the road. I kept an eye on the dark smudge on the horizon that marked the Darkling and his horde. The bite on my shoulder still felt a little raw.

Once the attention of the students had dissipated, Tolya drew up alongside myself and Nikolai. His relief having subsided, he could devote his full attention to glaring at us. We were looking down at him, due to the extra height of the horse, and it was a somewhat disconcerting experience.

“Just because you came back safely doesn’t mean it was a good idea in the first place,” he said to the two of us. “You should have at least taken me with you.”

“Tolya,” I said, “what could you have done? It’s not like the  _ nichevo’ya _ have heartbeats that you can slow.”

He sighed. “You might not have needed me in this specific instance, but there might come a time when you will. Just promise me that next time, you’ll bring me along. Or if not me, then someone else. You two are both too important to lose.”

“Tolya,” I said as he began to turn away. “I think you’re too important to lose, too. You’re my friend, you know.”

“It is impossible for anyone to be mad at you two,” he muttered as he walked to join Adrik.

“Improbable,” Nikolai called after him, and we both giggled.

We made it to the main road, as Adrik had predicted, and followed it until we reached the crossroads, where we turned south for Caryeva. We continued a few more miles before not even Ana Kuya’s scoldings could convince the children to keep going, and we stopped for the night.

Nikolai and I slept in a small ditch that would hide my light from view. Tolya and Adrik took turns keeping watch for us, as we all knew that Nikolai and I would be waking up throughout the night anyways. All in all, it was very similar to the previous night.

We spent the whole next day on the road for Caryeva. I kept a lookout for any sign of the Darkling, but I couldn’t see him. It made me nervous.

Nikolai was a bit more talkative than he’d been the previous day. He asked me questions about anything and everything: my skills with invisibility, what it had been like when I’d realized Mal was the amplifier, each of the remaining members of my Second Army and their skills, my link with the Darkling, even my experience with hunting the stag. I could tell he was thinking about something, but I didn’t ask what. He would tell me in time. Instead, I just leaned against his back and listened to his heartbeat.

The students weren’t the best at forced marches, but I couldn’t really blame them for it. During their second afternoon break to rest their legs, Nikolai and I rode a short distance ahead until we were out of earshot. I had let Tolya know, and he followed to keep watch, but he kept a reasonable distance. We’d told Adrik, too, and told him not to wait for us. We would join them once they caught up.

I tied the horse to a tree, as we had done previously, and laid down in the grass. Nikolai joined me. We watched the clouds and listened to each other breathing.

“You know,” Nikolai said eventually, “I think I’m starting to miss the wings.”

“What?” I turned my head to the side to look at him, and he rolled over to face me.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I hated the whole monster thing. I’d rather die than go through it again, even if it would mean depriving the world of my beautiful face. It’s just... There’s this ache where it used to be. There’s a part of me that wants it back, that misses the wings and the strength and the claws and just the raw power of it. Does that, does that make sense?”

“Yes, actually.”

The worry on his face melted, and was replaced with faint curiosity.

“That’s the thing about  _ merzost,” _ I said. “You hate it and hunger for it at the same time. I’d have to kill Mal to get a hold of the third amplifier, but I want it just the same. I don’t even want it because it would help us, I want it just because I want it.”

Nikolai moved closer to where I was and placed his head on my shoulder, listening to my heartbeat.

“You are my resident expert on tearing holes in the universe,” he said, “so I suppose I’ll have to trust you. But…” he hesitated. When he began again, the usual confidence was gone from his voice. “I can’t help but shake the feeling that I didn’t do enough to fight it. That I gave up. That if I’d done more to resist it, I wouldn’t have killed those peasants. I know you said that their deaths weren’t my fault, but I still should have been able to stop them. I’m worried… I’m worried I just accepted it.”

I ran my fingers through his hair as he exhaled.

“Do you understand why the Darkling did what he did to you?” I said. “It’s because he knew it was the worst thing that could happen to you. Because he knew just how antithetical it was to who you are. He put something in you that would turn on your friends, on your own people, on your self. The Darkling knew it would make you suffer far more than any physical pain he could inflict on you.

“But you fought it. When you slipped the ring on my finger, you were proving him wrong. Don’t beat yourself up over what the  _ merzost _ did, celebrate your victories over it. Every second of clarity, you had to steal, to pay for with pain and hunger. I got a glimpse into what you were feeling when I healed you. I only felt it for a few seconds, and that alone nearly broke me. That you were able to live with it, to reach past it and sometimes even conquer it and take control; that is a miracle.”

Nikolai was silent for a few seconds, then he turned his head to look up at me. He was smiling.

“On the miracle front,” he said, “I’m afraid there’s already a Sankt Nikolai, which is unfortunate. I’m a big fan of equality in relationships, and it doesn’t seem like you being a Saint and me being a mere man is entirely fair.”

“You’re a literal king.”

“Still not crowned yet.”

“I’m starting to think it’s worth taking a detour to Os Alta for your coronation, if only so you shut up about that.”

“Such an enthusiastic endorsement. I was actually planning to do just that, though.”

“What planning?” I said incredulously. Nikolai’s smile widened.

“My wonderful fantastic plan for defeating the Darkling and saving Ravka that I’ve come up with over the past day. How else was I supposed to spend all that time riding?”

So he had been planning something.

“And did this plan include telling anyone what you were up to?” I asked.

“Of course,” Nikolai said. “But I was saving it for when we were all back together again. I’d hate to have to repeat myself.”

“I thought you loved the sound of your own voice.”

“I do. But I’d much rather listen to myself say two different things than the same thing twice.”

“Saints, why did I ever agree to marry you?”

He kissed my cheek. “If that wasn’t a rhetorical question, I could get an answer for you. I happen to know one. A Saint, that is.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he brushed his hair back into place with a grin.

“O Sankta,” he said solemnly, “I beseech you, please grant me knowledge of the reason for which Alina Starkov has agreed to take the hand of Nikolai Lantsov in marriage.”

Stifling my laughter, I sat up so that my lips brushed against his ear.

“He has a lot of money,” I whispered loudly.

We both laughed at that. Then we kissed and fell back in the grass, where we stayed until Tolya cleared his throat at us as loudly as he could. Nikolai stood and helped me to my feet, and we untied the horse. He insisted that I sit up front, to work on my riding skills. But once he got up behind me, I was pretty sure he’d just wanted to wrap his arms around my waist and lay his head on my shoulder.

We spent the whole next day on the road as well, with me riding in front. He didn’t have as many questions as the previous day, but I was instead subjected to a lot more off key whistling. Eventually, I pointed out to Nikolai that he had now spent more time free of  _ merzost  _ than he’d spent with it. I felt him shrug.

“I didn’t really have any comprehension of time while I was like that,” he said. “But it may as well have been a whole lifetime.”

I still had to wake him from his nightmares that night, but there weren’t quite as many as there had been before.

We reached Caryeva the following evening. Nikolai and myself rode out in front of the main group, Tolya at our side. Mal came out to greet us.

“Alina! Tolya!” he called as he started running towards us. Nikolai was sitting behind me on the horse, so Mal hadn’t immediately spotted him. But as he came closer, I saw the exact moment he noticed the arms around my waist, the flash of blond against my shoulder. He slowed, curiosity furrowing the brow over his otherwise joyful expression.

“Hey, Mal,” I said, smiling and bring the horse to a halt. I felt Nikolai lift his head from my back and peer around my side. Mal’s jaw dropped.

“Hello, Oretsev,” Nikolai said. “I understand your shock that I’m trusting Alina with the reins, but she’s actually become quite a good rider over the past few days.”

“Stur— Nikolai— I— You— How?” Mal stuttered.

Nikolai only smiled and dismounted. “I assume you’re referring to how I could possibly dare to be seen in such ill-fitting clothing. The answer is that it’s Tolya’s fault and my options were limited. But if you’re asking about the lack of claws… Let’s just say that when I commission an opera of my life story, I’ll have them say it was through the power of true love.”

“We can get Tolya to write the epic poem version,” I said, looking at the Shu mercenary as I got down from the horse and took off Ana Kuya’s cloak.

Toly grinned. “I’ll devote a solid dozen lines to the kiss,” he said. I made a face at him and threw the cloak at him.

Nikolai clasped Mal on the shoulder, but my friend’s gaze had moved to my hand, and the massive Lantsov emerald that glittered there.

“Are… Are you two.. A thing, now?” Mal asked.

I nodded, blushing.

“It turns out, all I had to do to win her was drag myself to hell and back!” Nikolai said. His tone was cheerful, but I wondered if Mal could fell the pain hidden beneath the words.

“It’s because I liked him much better when he couldn’t talk,” I said. At that, Mal laughed. He still seemed shocked, but he was smiling.

“Malyen?” I heard Ana Kuya ask from behind me. Mal winced.

“Keep me in your prayers,” he whispered, then walked over to the housekeeper. She had gotten off her horse and passed the reins to a cringing Grisha instructor.

A matter of moments later, though, he was called by a different voice. “Mal!” I heard Zoya shout. A few moments later, I glimpsed her — or at least her black curls — emerge from the stables. She turned and saw us a moment later.

“Alina’s back!” she called, practically shouting with joy. She started down the road towards us, followed by flashes of red, black, and blonde hair — Genya, Tamar, and Nadia. Nikolai turned towards me.

“I give them five seconds before they see me. Five… Four… Three…”

“Nikolai?!?” I heard Tamar shout. She started running towards us, passing Zoya in her haste.

“I’m impressed,” Nikolai murmured quietly to me. “I guess I simply glow with regal authority.”

He took his arm from Mal’s shoulder and sketched a bow as Tamar approached. She came to a halt before us, eyes wide in disbelief. For a moment she raised a hand, as if to touch Nikolai and see if he were real, but then she lowered it.

“Captain,” she said, her voice thick with emotion and her eyes shining with tears. “You’re… You’re back.”

“Of course I am,” Nikolai replied. “I’m generally opposed to taking vacations during civil wars.”

Tamar smiled, then Tolya added something in Shu and she burst out laughing. She flicked her eyes to my hand and my ring, then met my gaze and wiggled her eyebrows. I joined her laughter as she stepped up beside me.

“It’s a pity we left the cobalt lace back at the Spinning Wheel,” she whispered. I shoved her playfully as we both cackled, the men around us exchanging confused glances.

Following Tamar came Nadia, who ran to Adrik and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. Zoya and Genya, close on her heels, fell in line with our little parade. Zoya noted the ring on my finger and gave me an  _ it’s about time _ look. Genya's smile at the two of us was blinding.

We followed our friends to the stables and up the stairs to the hayloft where they had made camp. David was buried in a notebook, Harshaw was talking to Oncat, and Misha was trying to balance his wooden sword on his head.

“Truly a fearsome army,” Nikolai muttered to me as he hoisted himself atop a hay bale. He helped me up to sit beside him and slipped his arm around my waist. “Though honestly, as long as Zoya’s here, our enemies have every right to be scared.”

Mal and Adrik set up Ana Kuya and the Keramzin residents in one of the rooms on the ground floor of the stables. They escorted Misha down to join them — I had promised the boy that he would soon get new friends to play with — then joined the rest of us in the hay loft. The sun was almost finished setting and it was getting dark, so I summoned some sunlight to illuminate the loft.

As Nikolai prepared to speak, I looked out at my friends. I watched the hopeful expressions with which they regarded Nikolai, and the ways they would sometimes glance to his arm at my waist or the ring on my finger.

To be fair, I figured, the last time they’d seen Nikolai, he’d been a monster, presumed dead or worse. The last time they’d seen me, I’d been removed, distant, and humorless, relentlessly pursuing the Darkling’s destruction in an attempt to escape the hole inside my heart. And a few days later, the two of us showed up, giggling and engaged with neither warning nor explanation. I supposed it was enough to give anyone whiplash. David, at least, didn’t seem to mind.

“All right, here’s the plan,” Nikolai said. “We destroy the Shadow Fold, and then we kill the Darkling.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Then everyone started speaking at once.

There was an indignant  _ “Excuse me?”  _ from Zoya, a confused “We were already doing that” from Mal, a “That’s it?” from both Adrik and Nadia, and a “And they say  _ I’m _ crazy” from Harshaw — the last one directed towards Oncat. Tolya and Tamar said nothing, but exchanged a glance. I swallowed my own suspicions and resisted the urge to gawk at Nikolai, instead raising my arms to gesture for quiet. This was Nikolai; there had to be more.

“I know, it seems obvious,” Nikolai said. “But I think we got distracted. By the firebird, the alliance with West Ravka, the Soldat Sol, the Darkling’s army and an army of light. We lost sight of our two main goals here.

“Remember — we have the third amplifier now. There shouldn’t be anything Alina can’t do. All we have to do is decide which goal to tackle first — so that’s what I’ve gone ahead and done for us.”

“We are not referring to Mal as ‘the third amplifier,’” Zoya growled, eyes blazing. “And we are not killing him.”

Nikolai held up his right hand — the one that wasn’t around my waist. “I never said we were. Alina didn’t kill the stag, and she can still use the collar as an amplifier. I think we might only need to cut off a few of his fingers and toes, have our friend Harshaw burn away everything except the bones, and then let David make a new bracelet.”

Harshaw shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with it.”

Zoya seemed appeased, if not happy. Mal didn’t look particularly excited, either, but he didn’t seem opposed. It was a start.

“And that’s only if we need to,” I added. “I was able to do a lot just with Mal’s hand around my wrist back at the Spinning Wheel; that might be enough to take out the Fold. We’ll just have to see for ourselves.”

Nikolai nodded. “We’ve mostly been on the defensive thus far, because of the Darkling’s army and his power to expand the Fold. But defense doesn’t win wars. It’s about time we went on the offensive.”

Mal narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded. Nikolai was speaking his language.

“So Alina takes out the Shadow Fold, possibly with the help of my bones,” Mal said. “Then what?”

“Once the Fold is gone,” Nikolai said, “I suspect that the Darkling is going to react very negatively. We already know he’s near here; he’ll probably head to see the sands for himself. Either way, we take the opportunity to fly to Os Alta, where I can get some clothes that finally fit, and then we announce my return and schedule the coronation. That will infuriate the Darkling, and knowing him, he’ll probably schedule his attack for whatever date we pick. That should give us time to gather the Soldat Sol, Sturmhond’s Grisha, and the rest of the troops from the Spinning Wheel and the emergency landing sites. We might even be able to rally the First Army, too. Most importantly, though, it will give David time to fix those mirrors on the roof of the Little Palace.”

The room went dead silent. Nadia went pale, and David became very distracted by his notebook. I winced, remembering the bodies of Marie and Paja and countless other Grisha strewn across a chaotic roof. Had they even been removed? Or would we return to swollen corpses and shattered glass?

It was Adrik who spoke. “Nikolai — your Highness — I’m sorry, but… I don’t know if everyone will be able to go along with that. There’s just too much entangled with it.”

Nikolai nodded, as if having foreseen this, and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Nadia.

“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice firm as steel. Every face in the room turned to her, and her eyes flashed.

“I’ll do it,” Nadia repeated. “I’m not afraid. I’ll do whatever it takes to put the Darkling in the ground.” Tamar placed an arm around her, but Nadia didn’t break eye contact with Nikolai, who merely blinked as if pleasantly surprised.

“David?” Nikolai asked. The Fabrikator tore his gaze from his notebook and looked not at Nikolai, but at me. No, not at me — at the collar around my neck. I resisted the urge to reach up and touch it. Instead, I nodded ever so slightly at him. He then turned to Genya, who took his hand and squeezed it. With our reassurances, he finally looked towards Nikolai, and nodded.

“Excellent,” Nikolai said. “I was planning on using the Fabrikator instructor from downstairs and his students, as well as Irina if we could find her, but there’s really no replacement for you, David.”

“Thank him for the compliment,” Genya whispered to David, though it was loud enough for all of us to hear. We all stifled our laughter as David, blinking hesitantly, muttered his thanks.

“Of course, we’d be fools if we didn’t have a back-up plan,” Nikolai continued. “We can also use the ships like the  _ Bittern. _ We should be able to outpace the Darkling and his army for at least a few hours, which should definitely give Alina here enough time to take care of him.”

“How do you know that we can outfly him?” asked Mal.

A grimace briefly passed across Nikolai’s face. “Personal experience,” he said.

_ He’s talking about when he was following us on the flight to Murin, _ I realized. My stomach dropped. I was glad when he moved on.

“Anyways, Alina here” — he tapped his fingers against my ribs as he spoke — “can keep tabs on the Darkling’s location for us, which should help us avoid any nasty surprises. And I’m not planning on having any birthday dinners while we’re in Os Alta.” Nikolai grinned at that last line, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was still shaken by referencing his time dealing with  _ merzost. _

“What about the actual coronation?” Tolya asked. Nikolai shrugged.

“You guys don’t need to be there, and I don’t need to be on the roof. We’ll keep the ceremony short and the escape routes open, but otherwise they’ll both proceed as planned. Any other questions?”

“Is there anything else I get to burn?” asked Harshaw.

“The Darkling’s human allies, if he has any, and possibly volcra,” said Nikolai.

“And Zoya’s hair if she complains too loudly,” I added.

“Hey!” Zoya cried, pouting.

“Well, if there’s no other questions, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nikolai said. “We’ll set off in the  _ Bittern _ in the morning to try Mal’s hand as amplifier material. If that doesn’t work, we’ll come back and give him a day to decide on which digits are his least favorite. Speaking of you, Mal, would you mind loaning me a shirt? I’ll probably faint of embarrassment if I have to keep wearing Tolya’s for much longer.”

Mal snorted and rifled through his bag while Nikolai slipped down from the hay bale. I followed after him and took his hand in mine. Mal tossed a spare shirt at us, and Nikolai caught it with his free hand, then folded it over his shoulder. He then started leading me towards the stairs.

“I’ll give yours back to you in the morning, Tolya,” Nikolai said. “And your pins, too, Adrik.”

Tolya’s brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”

This time, Nikolai’s grin did reach his eyes. “Alina and I have places to be,” he said.

A furious blush rose in my cheeks, and Tamar wiggled her eyebrows at me again. I tried to kick her, but she ducked out of the way, her reflexes too quick. I could feel everyone’s eyes upon me as Nikolai pulled me out of the room and down the stairs.

It was twilight outside, and I knew by now that Nikolai didn’t like the darkness, so I held onto the light as we left the stable. I waited until the two of us were out of earshot. Then I turned around and kicked Nikolai in the shin.

He winced, but his smile didn’t fade even as he rubbed his leg. “That was unnecessary,” he said. “But I think I have technically kissed you multiple times since we made that deal about kicking, so I suppose it was justified.”

I huffed. “Well, this time it was to stop you from getting ahead of yourself, mister ‘Alina and I have places to be.’”

He laughed softly. “I didn’t actually mean what I implied,” he said. “I just want to be able to fall asleep with your light on without it keeping everyone else awake. I don’t really want to have to explain it to them. And of course, I’d always like a chance to talk to you.”

He was still scared of the dark, and he was scared of telling the others about it, too. My heart swelled, but… “Still, you didn’t have to  _ imply _ it like that. Especially with the bit to Tolya about his shirt.”

“Sorry. But I don’t really care what the others believe, and I wanted to see how Tamar would react. I think it was worth it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You absolute  _ fiend,” _ I said. But I kissed him anyways.

He started leading me farther away from the stables, towards the race track. I furrowed my brow.

“Are we… Going somewhere?” I asked.

“I’ve been to Caryeva several times,” Nikolai replied. “There’s a particular place I have in mind. There are no windows, so you can light it up as bright as you want without worrying about giving our position away.”

I let him lead me to the stands by the track and in through a side door. I summoned more light so that I could illuminate the dark interior as Nikolai led me all the way up the stairs to the top, where there was a door with a combination lock. He got the right combination on his second attempt, and we walked inside.

It had to be the royal box. My sunlight lit up a room stuffed full of plush furniture of silk and velvet, all lavishly decorated in blue and gold. A massive double eagle — seemingly made of real gold — was mounted on the back wall. Instead of a front wall, however, there were wall-to-wall glass windows that granted an unrivalled view of the entire track.

I was taken aback for several seconds. “I thought you said you didn’t want windows,” I managed at last.

“What an excellent memory you have,” Nikolai said, “though I can probably claim credit for being memorable in the first place.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes. I trailed after him as he crossed to the other side of the room and pushed open a small door in the back wall that I had barely noticed. “Light, please.”

As he requested, I cast my light forwards to fill the new space. I found myself illuminating a room just as large as the one we were in, but of radically different design. It had no windows, and was instead lined with simple cabinets and a few tables of various sizes that were accompanied by benches or stools. There was another door in the far wall, though that one appeared to be locked.

It was a room for servants, I realized. The door we had came through had neither a doorknob nor a lock, but simply swung open at a push from either side, allowing easy transit for servants carrying dishes or plates. And of course, the lack of windows meant that the servants stayed out of sight, out of mind. Or at least they did for most of the Ravkan royal family.

_ I wonder if Genya’s ever been here, _ I thought. But I was interrupted by a scraping sound from behind me. I turned to see Nikolai pushing a massively oversized sofa towards the door.

Saints, I’d forgotten how strong he was. The arms of a sailor, the body of a soldier… Botkin hadn’t been kidding about his strength, though I found his idea of me beating Nikolai in a physical fight rather farfetched.

I jolted myself from my thoughts to help Nikolai move the sofa. It was huge — over six feet long and almost three feet wide. Any bigger, and you’d have to call it a bed.

“They told us about this room as a potential escape route.” Of course Nikolai could still manage to talk when moving what seemed like a hundred pound object. “In case of assassins or whatnot. I think I was the only one who actually listened. I’m glad I got to make use of the information, even if wasn’t in the way it was originally intended.”

Nikolai let the sofa rest once it reached the center of the room, and then I realized — it  _ was _ going to a bed. At least for the two of us. Tonight.

My blush was not going anywhere.

“Sit here,” Nikolai said, tapping the back of the sofa as if it wasn’t obvious. I kicked off my shoes and vaulted over the side rather than have to walk all the way around. Nikolai draped Mal’s shirt over the back of the sofa next to me, then walked back towards the door where it had shut behind us. He unbuttoned Tolya’s shirt and took it off entirely. My cheeks burned. A soldier’s body, indeed.

He tucked the shirt into the crack between the door and the floor to block out any evidence of my light. I released the limit I had been keeping on my sunlight out of caution, and instead let the glow expand and fill the whole room, bathing me, Nikolai, and all four walls in gentle golden daylight.

Then Nikolai straightened and turned around, and I had no doubt that my face went bright red. Nikolai raised an eyebrow as he joined me on the sofa. He reached to pick up Mal’s shirt, but I placed a hand on his arm —  _ his bare arm! _ — to stop him. He raised his other eyebrow at that.

“Do you have something to say, Alina?”

“Um… I’d rather you not wear that,” I stuttered.

“And why is that, Alina?” Any higher, and his eyebrows would have to leave his forehead.

“Because then you’ll smell like Mal.”

At my words, Nikolai threw his head back and roared with laughter. Even I smiled. I hadn’t heard him laugh like that since at least before the  _ merzost. _

He tossed the shirt aside, then leaned forwards and gathered me in his arms, pulling me right up against him. Against his bare chest. My blush returned in full force.

Saints, I realized — Nikolai was my  _ fiancé. _ I could barely look at him without blushing, and I was going to  _ marry _ him.

No wonder people kept looking at the ring. I couldn’t believe it — and I was the one who’d said yes.

“Nikolai?”

“Yes?” he replied. I could feel his chest vibrate when he spoke.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure I fully believe the whole engagement thing. The idea still seems, well, absurd.”

“You know that those ideas have always been my favorite ones.”

“Hmph. It’s just… it still just feels like I have a crush on you.”

“Luckily for me, my flawless confidence means that I don’t have to admit to you that I feel the exact same way.”

I snorted. I paused for a moment, listening to his breath but also feeling it in the rise and fall of his chest and in the way it tickled my cheek.

“I wish your plan allowed for me to come to your coronation,” I said eventually.

Nikolai sighed. “Agreed, but I don’t really see a way around it. Fortunately, however, that’s not the day I care the most about.”  
“Oh?”

“The most important day for me is going to be our wedding,” he whispered, then leaned down and nipped my ear. I squeaked. “So as long as you’re going to be there for that one, I think I can manage.”

“I might have a scheduling conflict.”

His laughter brushed against my skin. “I’m sure we can find a way around it. Have you tried asking the sun to give us a few more hours in the day?”

“I don’t think that’s in my job description.”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll have to try some other day. Does Tuesday work?”

“I’m afraid that all of my days that won’t be taken up by Zoya complaining about Mal will be occupied by Mal complaining about Zoya.”

“We’ll have to use an understudy, then.”

“And who do you have in mind?” I asked.

“I was thinking of Ana Kuya.”

_ “Ana Kuya?!?” _

“Well, her hair’s probably turned white now that she’s learned you’re marrying the future King of Ravka, so she’s already halfway there.”

I shook my head, laughing quietly, then leaned back against his shoulder. He pressed his face into my hair and inhaled deeply. His chest rose and fell, and without even thinking about it, I synchronized my breathing to his. Time slid by, and the muscles in my body relaxed, one by one.

“You’re worried about something, aren’t you?” Nikolai asked, his voice muffled against my hair.

“What do you mean?”

“You were all tense,” he said, running his hand up the length of my arm to emphasize his point. Even with the sleeve of my  _ kefta _ in the way, his touch still raised goosebumps on my skin.

I hummed. “I think I’m worried about how much your plan relies on me,” I said. “To destroy the Shadow Fold, to defeat the Darkling. What if the plan with Mal’s bones doesn’t work? What if we kill him, and it still doesn’t work? What if I can’t destroy the Fold and I’m just a huge fraud?” I didn’t realize tears had been forming in my eyes until they started to overflow and trickle down my cheeks.

“Hey,” Nikolai said softly. He took me by the shoulders, sat me up, and turned me to face him. He reached up with his left hand and brushed away my tears.

“If you could destroy the  _ merzost  _ in here,” he whispered, tapping against his heart with his right hand, “you can destroy the  _ merzost _ that makes up the Shadow Fold.”

I smiled faintly at him as he brushed away the last of the tears. “I noticed that your plan didn’t include me using  _ merzost,” _ I said.

“I didn’t want that to be our only option,” he said. “I didn’t want to force you to make that choice.”

“Not after what it did to you?”

“You told me a while back that using  _ merzost  _ takes something out of you. And after seeing just how much pain is contained within one piece of it, I don’t want to see what it would do to you to summon hundreds of those.”

“It’s what turned my hair white, actually.”  
“What? I thought you said that happened to you in battle?”

“It did. I tricked the Darkling into thinking I was going to rejoin him, then took control of his power and started summoning  _ nichevo’ya _ like crazy. It would have killed us both, taking so much out of us in such a short time, but Mal or Tolya or Tamar dragged me away before I could finish. We both ended up surviving, and I came away with white hair.”

He reached out and took a lock of my hair. “I thought you said it took something out of you, not that it made you prettier.”

I blushed and resisted the urge to bat his hand away. “You’re not seeing me in my months long recovery mode, though,” I said. “I was basically a walking skeleton for a good portion of it. Actually, scratch that, not even a walking one. They had to carry me in on a stretcher, and even after that, I usually needed to lean on someone to get around.”

“Saints,” Nikolai breathed. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

“Well,” I said, “as far as noble self sacrifices go, it wasn’t very dignified. By the time I was dragged away, we were just sort of convulsing on the floor, bleeding from the eyes and foaming at the mouth.”

“So is that why you don’t want to use it?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “If anything, it made me want to use it more.”

“You still want to try it again? After all that?”

“In a way, yes. You remember what I told you about  _ merzost. _ But I, I think I’ve decided not to use it after all. I don’t know if it’s Baghra’s words finally sinking in, or if it’s just me trying to honor her memory. Maybe it’s that I don’t want to mess with the thing that hurt you so badly. I used to long for the third amplifier, much as Baghra feared it. She said once that I might be “unwilling to make the sacrifice that  _ merzost _ requires.” I always imagined that I would be willing to do it, because I needed to to save Ravka. But now that it’s Mal… I’m discovering that there are sacrifices that I’m not willing to make.” I took Nikolai’s hand in mine and squeezed it for emphasis.

“You really have been spending too much time around Tolya,” he said, a faint smile returning to his face. I leaned back against him, placing my face in the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. He leaned his head against my hair, then reached up with his free hand to trace the skin under my collar and to tuck my hair behind my ears. We stayed like that as we drifted into sleep. He had his nightmares, of course, but we managed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was 8000 straight words of Nikolai talking and basically nothing happening. The next chapter should have some actual plot in it, though (shocking, I know). Y'all deserve it for having read so far.  
> Also, I've changed the chapter names. Because you already know we're going to have like twenty more at the rate I'm going, and "Ruin and Rising (Part 17)" is definitely not going to cut it.  
> I love y'all so much. This is literally so long and all of y'all are crazy to read it, I really appreciate all of your time and attention and love. I'll see you soon. <3


	7. Hunters and Hellfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the plot train, because it's finally looking like we might actually finish this fic. OGs will remember back when I thought this fic was only going to have three chapters. Or when way back in chapter 4 I said there was going to be either one or two more chapters. I guess I'm just delusional.  
> Lots of love to everyone who has stuck with me so far, through so many words... Y'all are more willing to read my work than _I_ am. That's dedication.  
> Here's another fat stack of words for you to read, my precious children. I'll see you in the end notes.

“Tamar’s going to kill us when we get back,” I said. “For not telling anyone where we were going.”

I was standing before the glass windows of the royal box, watching the sunrise and gently summoning its light. Nikolai stood just behind my shoulder, buttoning the shirt he’d borrowed from Mal.

“She might,” he said, “but not before you tell her about what happened last night.”

He finished with the last button and reached down to take my hand. We headed for the door. 

He grinned lazily as he continued.“Knowing you, I think that leaves me with many, many years of life remaining.”

We made it back to the stables where the others were camped. Tolya was stationed by the door.

“They’re back,” the Heartrender called over his shoulder into the darkness of the stables. I summoned my light to fill the space.

“Great,” I heard Harshaw call from upstairs. “Now I have to deal with them  _ and _ with Mal and Zoya.”

“Where were you?” Tolya asked as Nikolai handed him his shirt.

“The room behind the royal box in the stands by the racetrack,” Nikolai answered. “I know, we should have told you ahead of time. Sorry. I got carried away and Alina was busy kicking me. I’ll make sure to keep you informed next time.”

“Kicking you?” I heard Tamar ask. I looked up to see her poking her head in from the hayloft upstairs, a wicked grin on her face.

“Only because you got out of the way before I could kick you,” I said to her. “Once we were outside, Nikolai was the only one in range.”

“I assure you, Tamar, she did it in a very sensual manner,” Nikolai said.

“Don’t make me kick you again.”

Tamar laughed and disappeared upstairs again. Tolya shook his head as he did his best to stifle his laugh.

“Are we ready to depart?” Nikolai asked him.

“If you can wake Zoya,” he said with a sigh.

We left David and Genya behind to reduce the weight on the  _ Bittern. _ Nikolai took the wheel, so Tamar manned the lines along with Tolya. Adrik joined his sister and Zoya at the sails, while Harshaw stood ready with his flint in case something went wrong with my light. Mal, a rifle across his back, joined me where I stood next to Nikolai at the stern of the ship. I bent the light to hide us from sight as we travelled over the inhabited land between Caryeva and the Fold.

“Before we enter the Fold, I want Adrik to trade places with Zoya,” Nikolai said. “That way Zoya can do her little sound trick to keep the volcra from hearing or smelling us. Alina may or may not be able to summon light at the same time as she’s destroying the Fold, so it’s best if we try to stay hidden at first.

“We’ll fly into the Fold a little ways, then head north. The Fold is very narrow at this end and won’t take very long to cross. Alina might need more time than that to work her witchcraft.”

“It’s not witchcraft,”I heard Zoya say.

“Never turn down an opportunity for alliteration,” Nikolai replied. He glanced over at me. “You okay with heading into the Fold?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I said.

“I recall that the last time we flew through it, the light failed you while we were hunting volcra.”

I blanched. “The  _ merzost _ recognized me because of the bite on my shoulder,” I said. “It made the cries of the dying volcra sound very… Human. So I was already on edge. And then the Darkling did that thing where he visits me, except it was for the first time so I had no idea what was going on, and he slashed at my face with a knife. It didn’t touch me, but I threw up my arms to protect myself and in doing so let go of the light.”

“Saints. I felt bad about that for quite a while afterwards. Now I feel extra bad,” Nikolai said.

“How could you have known?” I asked.

“Well, you did say that you didn’t want to do it. And I’d already surprised you with the fact that we were entering the Fold in the first place. I just shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“We would have been fine if it weren’t for the Darkling.”

“I think we could just about summarize the entire past year that way,” Nikolai replied. “Perhaps that’s what we should call the opera I was telling Mal about.”

I smiled, but my eyes were on the curtain of darkness we were rapidly approaching. I didn’t feel like working a miracle, but that certainly wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

Nikolai gave the word, and Zoya swapped with Adrik. He wasn’t as strong as the raven haired Squaller, so the ship slowed a bit, but he had enough to keep us airborne. The air crackled and thickened by my ears as Zoya placed her damper around us. Mal placed his hand on my shoulder.

Then we were in the Fold.

The darkness tugged at my skin and the wound on my shoulder. It recognizes me, I thought. It answers to me.

Then Mal’s hand slid down my arm and closed around my wrist.

I’d thought I would be ready for the jolt of power, having felt it once before, but I really wasn’t.

The wave of power crashed over me like a black ocean wave, knocking me off my feet headfirst into the surf. I was aware of the light that surrounded us, even in darkness, and that seeped through the ground where it lay below us. The world was a tapestry, made of countless strands of light, and I was the weaver.

The  _ merzost _ that whispered at my skin could only be destroyed by the Cut. Ordinarily, the Cut would be too small to match the monstrous size of the Fold. But I was the Sun Summoner, Sol Koroleva, and I possessed all three of Morozova’s amplifiers. I would use the Cut with multiple threads of light, just like I had at the Spinning Wheel. Except this time, I would be using all of the light. All of it, at once.

I raised my hands to reach for the light, only for the pressure of Mal’s hand to tug at my wrist. With my movement restricted, I lost my grasp on the threads. I reached for them again, hearing Mal swear softly by my side as I yanked at his arm. But without freedom of motion, they remained out of my reach.

My blood roared as the hunger for power coursed through me like a living thing. I needed Mal’s bones, I realized. Not just for the freedom of motion, but for the rest of the power that lay beneath his skin. Only then would I control all of the light. And I would control  _ all _ of it. The want — the need — filled me, sang to me, and raked its claws along my skin. I needed Mal’s bones. I needed his blood.

_ He’s your friend, _ I thought.  _ And Zoya loves him. There has to be another way. _

I took a deep breath, and lunged for the light again.

And tore my wrist free of Mal’s grasp.

The blazing power within me winked out like an extinguished candle. I collapsed to the deck, panting. Mal swore again, louder this time.

“Alina?” Nikolai asked, the edge of concern in his voice sharp enough to cut through my addled mind.

I exhaled and summoned a sphere of sunlight around us, tired of the darkness that pressed against my skin. “I need his bones.”

Zoya turned, the fury in her face illuminated by my light, and dropped the shell of air she had been holding around us.

“Did you even try!?” she shouted. “You just want the power. You already have two amplifiers, but no, you want the third. And what if that doesn’t work? Will you want his head, too?“

“Zoya,” Mal said. She turned to him, and her fury vanished like smoke in the wind.

“She did try,” he said. “And she just about dislocated my shoulder doing so. She can’t summon properly with me holding on to her wrist. I drag her down so that she can’t move.”

I felt a hand on my back and looked up to see Nikolai leaning down from his position at the wheel to look into my face.

“Do you want to head back?” he asked softly. I nodded weakly, then closed my eyes.

I could vaguely hear Nikolai calling orders, as well as leathery flapping that must have been approaching volcra. But all I was listening to were Zoya’s words as I replayed them over and over in my head.

The hunger for the third amplifier remained within me, but it was no longer as maddening as it had been when Mal was holding my wrist. My logic could return.

Saints, we were going to cut Mal’s fingers off. Mutilate him. Ruin his hands for the rest of his life. Would he still be able to use a gun? A bow? A knife?

And if that didn’t work, would I take his life? A part of me whispered  _ Yes. _ It made me nauseous. Zoya had been right.

Suddenly, I felt pressure around my shoulders. I opened my eyes to see Nikolai sitting next to where I had fallen on the deck, his arm around me. I let him draw me closer as tears pricked my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

Tamar was at the wheel, I noticed vaguely. Mal had taken her spot at the lines. Those orders Nikolai had given must have included swapping them around so that he could sit next to me.

He took my wrist in his hands — just warm skin, with no rush of madness and power. The tension in my core began to unwind.

“Zoya’s right,” I whispered. “I’m a monster.”

“As someone who has in fact been a monster, I think I can assure you that that is not the case.”

I looked up at Nikolai and the cautious smile that hid his worry. He was willing to dig into what hurt him most just to make me feel better.

“I still remember how you hesitated before killing the sea whip,” he said softly. “That hesitation was all human.”

“But then I took its scales to be the second amplifier,” I said. “I think it changed me.”

“Even after the second amplifier, you said you thought the volcra sounded human as they died, and it made you sick. That seems pretty similar to me.”

“Well, but —”

“Alina. The amplifiers may tempt you, but they will never change you.”

He hugged me tighter. My tears flowed freely, but my heart swelled. My ragged breathing was just beginning to calm when we emerged from the Shadow Fold back into daylight.

I jolted upright in Nikolai’s arms and let go of the light I had summoned. Instead, I raised my arms and twisted my wrists to cloak the  _ Bittern _ from sight.

“Well, I’m glad we’re out of there,” I heard Harshaw say. “Listening to Nikolai and Alina makes me want to feed myself to the volcra.”

“Agreed,” said Zoya.

We landed at Caryeva and joined David and Genya in the loft. There, we tested various ways of wrapping Mal’s fingers around my wrist to see which ones to cut. Zoya, Adrik, and David advised him while Nikolai gave me a crash course in removing a man’s fingers.

“If it has to be you that strikes the final blow when it comes to killing an animal,” Nikolai said, “then it should definitely be you who removes the fingers.”

My stomach flipped. “A pity, since you’re the only one whose done this before, Sturmhond.”

He shrugged. “Have you ever chopped carrots before?” he asked. I nodded. “Think of it that way. And use the outside of the curve of the blade.”

“Do you think we can use my toes?” Mal asked.

“I don’t see why not,” I said.

David looked up from my wrist. “His two ring fingers plus one of his little toes should be enough.”

A flicker of emotion passed over Zoya’s face before she hid it. Mal raised an eyebrow at her.

“What is it, Zoya? Were you hoping to put a ring on one of those fingers?”

Her cheeks pinked ever so slightly. Even the imperious Zoya could blush, apparently.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Though I suppose we could always put it on your middle finger instead. That way, I can be reminded of my poor life choices whenever you make an obscene gesture at me.”

Mal smiled that mischievous Keramzin smile of his as he walked to the nearest window and placed his hand upon the window sill.

“Take it away,” he said. “Literally and figuratively.” We all groaned, but my spirits were buoyed. If Mal could remain light hearted during this, so could I.

Nikolai waved over Tolya and Tamar, who had been hovering nearby with Harshaw. He had Mal remove the boot and sock of the foot whose toe he wanted to lose, then made him fold his fingers into a fist beneath the window frame so that only his ring finger remained upon the wood. Which had now become a chopping block.

Tolya wrapped an arm around Mal and under his shoulders to support him, then used his remaining hand to lower his heartbeat. Mal’s eyelids gently slid shut, and his head rolled on his neck as he fell unconscious, but his chest still rose and fell with his breath. Hopefully, that would reduce how much pain he felt. On his other side, Tamar took hold of Mal’s hand, ready to staunch the bleeding when I was done. She was holding a few strips of cloth; she must have sacrificed an article of clothing to make bandages.

Nikolai handed me the knife and I stepped into position. I took a deep breath. You’re just chopping carrots, I thought, and I placed the knife at the base of his finger. I exhaled and inhaled, trying to calm my shaking nerves.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Sun Summoner,” Zoya said. If the situation had been less morbid, I might have smiled at her.

I took one last deep breath and closed my eyes. Then I brought the knife down.

I heard the faint thud of the knife through flesh, and I felt the resistance of the bone against the blade. The knife sank into the wood and I stopped, eyes closed, my whole body shaking.

“Let me know when I can open my eyes,” I whispered, letting go of the knife. I was vaguely aware of movement around me as I waited. I was going to be sick.

“All right,” Nikolai said. “Go ahead and open your eyes. We’re switching sides now.”

I opened my eyes hesitantly as Nikolai tugged me backwards. Tamar had wrapped a cloth around Mal’s hand, so I couldn’t see the space where his finger had once been. The finger itself was missing from the sill, though there was a small stain on the wood.

We took up our new positions, Mal still unconscious at Tolya’s hand, and arranged Mal’s other hand against the frame. Nikolai handed the knife back to me. He’d cleaned it, I noticed dully.

I was shaking fairly violently as I placed the knife in front of his finger. Nikolai placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me, and I drew in a ragged breath. I closed my eyes and chopped off the finger. I kept hold of the knife this time as I stepped backwards.

I stood there until Nikolai told me to open his eyes again. Tamar was lifting Mal’s leg and setting his foot against the sill.

There was blood on my knife. I tried to still my shaking hands as I stepped back into position, but I could not get the knife straight. Eventually, Nikolai reached forwards and placed a hand over mine, guiding it into place. I shut my eyes and swallowed, then brought the knife down.

The knife trembled in my hand with the finality of what I had done. I let go of it and leaned against the wall beside me as I slowly sank to my knees. I focused on my breathing, ignoring the movement around me, until my heart rate slowed and my stomach calmed. Then I opened my eyes and looked around the room.

Tolya and Tamar had laid Mal in the hay, and they were currently leaning over him with Zoya.

“We’ll keep his heart rate down for another hour or two, when the pain should have lessened,” Tamar was saying. “Then we’ll stop and wait for him to wake up naturally.”

Adrik had joined Nadia on the far side of the loft, their backs turned to my butchery by the window. David was standing at the top of the stairs, wringing his hands, while Genya whispered in his ear. I didn’t see Nikolai… or Harshaw.

They’d gone to burn Mal’s fingers, I realized. Nikolai must have been the one taking them from the window sill so that I didn’t have to see them. But that meant he’d been holding them while he’d been talking to me.

My stomach roiled, and I quickly spun to the window as I vomited over the side. I heard the patter of feet beside me and Genya arrived at my side, pulling my hair back and patting my shoulders. When there was nothing left in my stomach, she took out a handkerchief and cleaned my face.

I heard another set of footsteps approach and turned to see Zoya sit down next to me.

“You didn’t deserve what I said to you this morning,” she said.

“Are you… Apologizing?” I asked.

“Of course not,” she said indignantly. “I never apologize. I am merely remarking that you didn’t deserve it.”

I smiled faintly as she stood and made her way back to Mal, who was still sleeping peacefully.

Eventually Nikolai and Harshaw returned. David fell into step behind them. Genya helped me to my feet, and I closed my eyes and held out my bare wrist. Hunger clawed at my insides, though I wasn’t sure how much of it was for the amplifiers and how much of it was due to my now empty stomach.

I was expecting the cool touch that the stag antlers or the sea whip scales had had, but I was surprised by the lukewarm pressure of bone that was placed against my wrist. I shuddered.

_ Of course it’s still warm, _ I thought.  _ It just came out of his body. _

I managed to keep still as David forged the rest of the band. When he sealed the last two segments of bone, I sensed a deep realignment within me. It was as if my whole life, I had been incomplete, and now, I was whole. A sense of pure calm washed over me. I felt strong, grounded. Capable. Complete.

Even with my eyes shut, I was intensely aware of every thread of light that surrounded me: its position, its brightness, its color, the way it flowed through the air and reflected off of my friends, the way it tugged at me. In a sense, I could still see, though my eyes were shut. David was still holding my wrist, while Genya was at my left shoulder and Nikolai had come to stand to my right. I was aware of the light eddying through the barn, and I was aware of the great blazing sea of it that filled the afternoon sky behind me. And the rest of the world beyond it… If I wanted to, I could have looked anywhere. Seen anything.

I had the distinct sense that if I summoned, I would set the barn on fire.

“E’ya st rezku,” I whispered.  _ I am become a blade. _

I opened my eyes, and Genya gasped.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Nikolai said. “I take that means it worked.”

I raised my wrist to my face and looked at the bones encircling it. Pale ivory, smoothed by David’s work. I let my arm drop and met the gazes of my companions.

“What are we waiting for?” I said drily. “Let’s go destroy the Shadow Fold.”

We left the still-unconscious Mal in the care of David and Genya. Zoya wanted to be there when he woke up, so Genya did her best to keep his heart rate down. She was still a Corporalki, after all.

The rest of us piled onto the  _ Bittern _ as we had previously and took off. The sun slowly sank before us as we flew west, and I could feel the pull of its light. All I had to do was lift a finger, and I could blind — and possibly burn — everyone aboard. I was very careful with my hands.

We flew higher than usual, since I wasn’t willing to try to make us invisible with my power still untested, and we needed another way to stay out of sight. Since we had three Squallers and less weight than usual, it wasn’t too much of a strain on them.

We were still somewhat visible, but it didn’t matter that much to us. We were about to announce our presence to the Darkling anyways by destroying the Fold. It would give anyone who saw us something bigger to talk about then a little blip of a ship flying overhead.

As the Shadow Fold approached, I could feel the power within me pulsing with anticipation. My blood turned to fire in my veins, and my skin heated.

“Close your eyes,” I said. Then we entered the Fold, and I reached for the light.

My arms, unburdened and free to move, easily took hold of the strands of light that surrounded me, that filled even the darkness of the Unsea. It would have been effortless, except I had to stop myself at the boundaries of the Fold. I could feel the light that filled every inch of the ground below. I could have Cut the earth clean in two if I let myself.

The blaze inside of me boiled over. I brought my arms down in the Cut.

_ Merzost _ met  _ merzost, _ and power flooded through me.

I burned, consumed from the inside. I was a living star. I was combustion. I was a new sun born to shatter air and eat the earth.

Light sang. Darkness shrieked. The making at the heart of the world roared, and the very air trembled.

The blaze within me touched something deeper, and tore it away from me. I felt part of my very life force burn away in the blink of an eye, turning to light that burst forth from me in a blinding supernova.

The Shadow Fold disintegrated into sunlight, and I collapsed to the deck.

I was aware of only one thing: my throat and my wrists were bare. The amplifiers, and the power they had carried with them, were gone. The light within me was a weak, fluttering thing, a mere candle compared to the sun that had raged within me a moment ago.

Then I fell unconscious.

I woke to the jolt of the  _ Bittern _ landing in Caryeva. I had a splitting headache and intense nausea. I was incredibly dizzy. Someone had their arms around me.

I was blind. I couldn’t sense the light around me. I couldn’t feel its threads, its color, its movement. That second sight I had possessed with the third amplifier was gone.

I was also distinctly aware of the vulnerability of my own life. I was a weak, fragile, mortal thing. The otherworldly vitality that would have kept me young eternal was gone, burned away on the Fold.

I opened my eyes. It was twilight, the sky above a dim purplish blue.

_ It’s getting dark, _ I thought hazily.  _ Nikolai will want light. _

I raised my hands and summoned the sunlight.

It was like swimming through mud. The light had once rushed to me with the faintest movement of my hands. Now I had to drag it towards me, dredging it up from the horizon. It was like I was back at the Little Palace again, in Baghra’s hut, straining to stretch my light a little bit farther.

I cast a circle of sunlight around the ship and the marsh we had landed in. It didn’t have the intense brightness and warmth I was used to. It was like the light of a cloudy day instead of a summer afternoon.

The power that had once run through my veins… It was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s gone,” I rasped. My voice was strangled and unintelligible.

“Alina?” I heard Nikolai whisper in my ear. He was holding me.

“It’s gone,” I repeated. “They’re gone.”

My light shone upon the faces of my friends around me, all images of concern. Even Zoya and Harshaw looked worried.

“What’s gone?” Nikolai asked. “The amplifiers?”

I nodded.

“You did it, you know,” Zoya breathed. “You destroyed the Fold.”

Her words registered dimly. The Fold was unimportant. “It’s gone,” I croaked again.

“We should head inside,” Tamar said.

Nikolai stood, only to bend down and pick me up. I was carried from the deck back to the stable. I kept my arms raised, knowing how important to Nikolai it was for me to keep the light shining, but it took effort. Eventually, I would tire. I had spent so long with the amplifiers, the very concept of tiring seemed foreign to me. I had lived a dream, and now I was waking to reality.

I dimly registered reaching the hay loft. Genya ran to us, and I could tell she was saying something, but I was too distant to understand her words. My eyes, instead, followed Zoya as she ran to where Mal was in the hay, still asleep. Tamar trailed after her, except the Heartrender headed for David instead of Mal. My light glinted off of pieces of bone and scales in her hands. The amplifiers.

Nikolai dropped into the hay and curled around me. I drifted into unconsciousness once more.

I woke to the sound of voices. I blinked open my eyes to a barn filled with morning light. Nikolai was holding me just as he had been when I had fallen asleep. I could feel the whisper of his breath against my hair as he spoke, saying something about Os Alta.

The Grisha were gathered around us in a loose semicircle. Mal was awake, I noticed; Zoya had her arm around him.

I must have shifted or stirred in some way, because Nikolai turned. His face entered the corner of my vision as he peered at me.

“Alina?” he asked. “You awake?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered. I heard Zoya laugh.

I sat up, Nikolai doing his best to support me. He brushed a few strands of hay out of my hair.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I held out a hand and called the light. With the sun up, it came readily to my hand. But it was so little. The power that had once cut a mountain in half was gone.

“I’m back to square one,” I said. “I don’t think I’m immortal anymore. I’m not even sure that I can still use the Cut. I… I feel… I feel like I’m powerless.”

“You managed to keep hold of your light the whole time you were asleep,” Nikolai said, “which was at least fourteen hours or so. And even then, I think you dropped it because you woke up, not because you were tired. That seems like quite a bit of power to me.”

“You certainly took your time waking up,” Zoya said. “It’s almost noon.”

“That’s wise, coming from you,” Genya retorted.

“I’ve been asleep for that long?” I asked. The weight of reality outside of my missing amplifiers crashed down around me. “Saints, has the Darkling done anything yet?”

“We were waiting on you for that,” Zoya said drily.

“You should have woken me sooner,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. I’d destroyed the Shadow Fold hours and hours ago. How had he reacted? Did he know where we were? Could he just create a new Fold to take the place of the old one? How could I defeat him without the amplifiers?

“You were asleep,” Nikolai said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Idiot,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Your whole plan is ruined. I can’t face him without the amplifiers. And you let me sleep.”  
“We were just discussing that, actually,” Nikolai said. “Do you think the amplifiers would work if David fixed them?”

I looked at David. He didn’t seem eager; he must not think it will work. But on the off chance it did…

“It’s worth a try,” I said.

It didn’t work.

I’d stood up and let David put the two pieces back together around my neck. When he was done, I reached to summon, but my light was the same as before. The amplifiers had been made with  _ merzost. _ When they had met the Fold, they had destroyed each other.

“You could still do plenty of things before you got the stag,” Nadia said. “And I would imagine that all of Baghra’s lessons are still true regardless of whether you have an amplifier or not.”

I furrowed my brow at that. “Stand back,” I said. I aimed for the roof, and brought my arms down in the Cut.

The light honed and sang just as it always had, if only a little quieter than normal. My light had left a yard long scar in the roof. The excitement that had warmed my blood vanished. That was barely enough to take out a single  _ nichevo’ya, _ let alone the dozens I would need to destroy to even get a crack at the Darkling. My shoulders sagged.

“We can work with that,” Nikolai said from behind me. I turned to face him. His eyes were calculating. “Can you still do the invisibility trick?”

I took a deep breath. I’d only ever done it with two amplifiers. But all the same, I twisted my wrists and imagined the light parting around Nikolai.

And just like that, he vanished from view. Tamar whistled.

I let the light go, and Nikolai reappeared. His brow was briefly furrowed, but then it cleared.

“That was very cruel of you,” he said. “You had no right to deprive the world of my beautiful face.”

I laughed as I hugged him. “Do you think we have a chance?” I asked.

“We have me. We’ve always had a chance,” he said, and I snorted.

Mal cleared his throat. “Without the amplifiers, can you still visit the Darkling? It would be helpful to at least know where he is.”

I reached involuntarily for the  _ nichevo’ya _ bite at my shoulder, though it was hidden beneath my  _ kefta. _ “I can try.”

“You’ll need to keep your wrists hidden,” Tamar said. “Now that the Fold is gone, he’ll know that you’ve found all three amplifiers. No doubt he’ll want to see them. It’s imperative that you don’t let him see that they’ve broken.”

“I wish I could come along,” said Harshaw, and we all looked at him. He shrugged. “He’ll probably be scared of her if he thinks she has the three amplifiers. It would be fun to watch.”

Nikolai grinned at me. “You’re the Sun Queen,” he said. “It’s about time he feared you.”

I smiled right back, then closed my eyes and lifted my chin. I plucked at the tether within me. It was weaker now, without the stag, but it was still there. Right next to the hole that the power of the amplifiers had once filled.

I was on the sands of the Unsea. The sun was shining.

The Darkling was standing on a dune, alone except for the horde of  _ nichevo’ya _ that surrounded him. His unfocused gaze swivelled to me almost immediately, and he stumbled backwards, hissing.

I stepped forwards, my chin held high.  _ You’re the Sun Queen. It’s about time he feared you. _

“What do you want?” he growled. He was afraid. Oh, he was so afraid.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” I said. It felt good to use his own words against him.

“When you put the collar around my neck,” I said, “did you ever think it would come to this?”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t have to answer your questions,” he spat. “You just want to know where I am. The hunter has become the prey, how poetic of you. But these wings” — he gestured to his shadow horde — “can take me anywhere. You’re wasting your time. Run home to Os Alta and see how well you can lead this miserable country when the enemies are at your gate.”

I smiled faintly, as if amused. I remembered all too well how the Darkling had treated me, and I was an apt pupil.

“I can see you,” I said. It was a lie, but it had been true when I had worn the amplifiers. “There is light even in the shadows, and it answers to me. Your darkness will betray you wherever you go. You cannot hide.”

His  _ nichevo’ya _ hissed as they placed themselves between us.

“So you have come to gloat?” he said bitterly. “You think yourself victorious now, with the people chanting your name for triumphing over the Fold. But when Fjerda invades and ties the Grisha to the pyres, when the Shu march from the south, then you will see. The Fold was our last hope for keeping them in fear, Alina. You have destroyed Ravka’s last weapon. So you may strike me down, Alina, but know I will laugh in my grave when it all comes crashing down around you.”

Words rose in my throat — words about Ravka’s weapon being unity, the sort of unity I had seen among Nikolai’s men as Grisha and sailors had made ships to sail across the sky — but I forced them down. That would get me nowhere with the Darkling. I had to figure out how to get him to come to me, so that he wouldn’t realize that I was lying.

An idea formed. It made my skin crawl, but I could deal with it.

“I come with a proposition,” I said. The Darkling paled.

“I have eternity in front of me,” I continued. Another lie, but one that I knew the Darkling would buy. “I’d like someone to spend it with.”

His eyes widened, and I had the feeling that he had stopped breathing. That spark of longing burned against the empty loneliness in his eyes. I’d struck a chord.

“You will come to me alone,” I said. “Without your shadow army. Nothing to hide behind or to carry you. I’d like to see you walk, for once. Or perhaps crawl.”

I turned my back to him and readied myself to break the connection.

I spoke as I began to walk away from him. “I’ll be waiting for you...” Then I looked back over my shoulder. I let a predatory ferocity gleam in my eyes, my smile, my voice as I spoke his name.

“... Aleksander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (゜ロ゜;)
> 
> Not even _I_ was expecting this chapter to end this way. I had a different view of how this was going to turn out. But then this just sort of happened.  
> Okay, Alina. Remind me to stay on _your_ good side.  
> Also, I'm thinking of writing the next chapter from the Darkling's perspective... If you have opinions, lemme know in that comment section. I love all of y'all, you guys are just the best <3


	8. The Darkling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here we are, a chapter from the Darkling's POV. It's about half the usual length, and it's all basically unnecessary because it's either duplicated by the previous chapter or the one to come after this, but... I had a lot of fun writing it, so here it is.  
> It's not as long as usual but, some things are gonna happen, my friends. I love y'all, and I'll see you in the end notes.

Aleksander Morozova had lived with the Shadow Fold for centuries. He’d forgotten the way it tugged at his soul.

He was just south of Kribirsk when she destroyed it.

He’d scoured the countryside for days, trying to find Alina after she had shown herself near Keramzin. He’d planned to draw her out by destroying her childhood home and was all too delighted when she had given herself away. But that delight had quickly evaporated when he couldn’t find a trace of her.

So he had turned north, to Kribirsk, where his Fabrikators had once been working on the glass skiffs. At least, they’d been working on them until his best Squallers had died at the Lantsov pup’s mountain hideaway, leaving him without the manpower to propel the heavier skiffs across the sands. He’d asked the Fabrikators if they could design smaller lights for his  _ nichevo’ya _ to carry, or if they could alter the skiffs to be pulled by his monsters. He would play his hand, and force Alina to come to him.

But she had played her hand first.

The sheer removal of the burden on his soul had left him unsteady. It was like he had been carrying a heavy load on one shoulder, and it had suddenly been removed, throwing him off his balance.

He’d been left feeling… Hollow. His work over the past hundreds of years, destroyed in an instant.

She must have found the firebird, he thought dimly. She did have the tracker with her. His grandfather’s amplifiers, finally united. Just what power had been unleashed? He should have taken greater note of that show of her power back at the mountain.

He had made mistakes.

He found himself walking to the Shadow Fold, his shadow army trailing behind him. 

Sand crunched beneath his feet.

He’d been walking for hours. He’d been moving at a snail’s pace, his brain addled by shock, as well as lack of sleep now that the sun had risen.

The sun was shining on the Shadow Fold.

He was pretty sure that all along the Unsea, Ravkans were celebrating. Occasionally he would hear their shouts of  _ Sankta Alina _ and  _ yunejhost _ — unity — carried to him on the wind. He occasionally glimpsed groups across the sands, but they scattered when they saw him and his horde.

The celebration made him bitter. The  _ otkasats’ya _ had no appreciation for the suffering of the Grisha that would soon ensue. They had no appreciation for the fear that he and the Shadow Fold had driven into the hearts of their enemies. Though he supposed they probably wouldn’t notice the difference between rule by Fjerda or the Shu, as either would be more competent than the Lantsovs. Only the Grisha would notice the difference.

He didn’t even notice when he stopped walking. He simply stood, staring out over the sun on the sands, for a long time.

And then Alina appeared.

She was wearing her golden  _ kefta, _ her chin held high, her white hair shining in the sunlight. It matched the gleaming white antler collar around her neck. Her sleeves hid the sea whip fetter from sight — as well as the bones of the firebird.

She had the three amplifiers, he remembered. He stumbled away from her, from that vicious power in her eyes.

_ It’s a vision, _ he assured himself.  _ She can’t hurt you. _

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” she said. She was echoing his own words back to him now. She knew the tables had turned, that she held the power now.

He didn’t care about her questions. She was here to hunt him, to know where he was. He told her as such. The corners of her mouth twitched in a cruel smile. She was imitating him. Mocking him, even.

And she was beautiful. Beautiful, and terrible. She was a Saint, a queen, a tyrant. That twisted longing in his heart boiled his blood. He shoved it down, just as he had tried and failed to do for months now.

“I can see you,” she said. Her eyes flashed in the sunlight. “There is light even in the shadows, and it answers to me. Your darkness will betray you wherever you go. You cannot hide.”

Goosebumps pricked along his skin at the danger in her tone, and he instinctively drew his  _ nichevo’ya _ around himself.

He hadn’t felt afraid in a long time. The sickening frost that now crawled through his veins… It crippled him.

_ Was this how she had felt?, _ he wondered. She had tried to run so many times, and each time he had found her. And now he was the one running, and she was the hunter. She had won. His dreams for Ravka and the Grisha shattered. There would be no more Second Army. There would be no more Little Palace. There would be no more Ravka.

Words spilled out of his swollen throat. “I will laugh in my grave when it all comes crashing down around you,” he finished. That smile of hers still taunted him.

“I come with a proposition,” she said, her voice sending claws raking up his spine.  “I have eternity in front of me. I’d like someone to spend it with.”

The world dropped out from under him.

_ Alina. _

Surely she was playing with him. Taunting him. She’d shoved him away so often.

But if he looked inwards, if he put himself in her position… He wanted her. He would have done the same.

It took all his strength to keep him from trembling. Some childish part of him sent his heart rate skittering at the thought of seeing her again. Of touching her.

And that same childish heart twisted as she turned and started to walk away from him.

“You will come to me alone, without your shadow army. Nothing to hide behind or carry you. I’d like to see you walk, for once, or perhaps crawl.”

She had him on a string. And she knew it.

“I’ll be waiting for you...” she said slowly, drawing out each torturous syllable as they plucked at his heart. When she glanced back at him over her shoulder, smiling like a tiger, he felt like a Heartrender had stopped his pulse.

“...Aleksander,” she finished, and vanished. He collapsed to his knees in the sand.

Dusk found him still kneeling there.

His name. She’d said his name. A name he had not heard in centuries. The way it had sounded rolling off her tongue… It sent shivers through him.

_ You need to move, _ some part of him whispered. The part of him that feared her, feared her and her three amplifiers.  _ She’ll find you. She’ll hunt you down. Run while you still can. _

But the other part of him wanted her to find him. 

_ You were meant to be my balance, Alina.  _ He needed her.

She’d said she would be waiting for him, he thought. Did that mean he was supposed to look for her? He still had no clue where she was.

_ Alina. _

Sleep came to him without him realizing it. And for the first time in centuries, he dreamed. He dreamed of her.

He woke to blistering sunlight. It reminded him of her. Warm. Beloved. Cruel.

He shrugged the sand off his clothes and out of his hair as he stood, somewhat woozy. He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in days. It was good that he’d at least gotten some sleep, he supposed.

No wonder he’d been so weak when Alina had appeared to him, he thought. Between that and the loss of the Fold, he’d been a shambling mess when she’d appeared, his heart like a little boy’s. Not like the centuries old legend he was.

Alina wanted the same as he did, he reminded himself. They wanted to protect Ravka and above all the Grisha in a hostile world. She was naive, of course: she didn’t have the infinite experience that he did. But he could talk to her and show her the way. She could learn. She had always been an apt pupil, after all.

He would have to leave his longing for her out of this. He would have many years to spend with her when this was all over, but first they had to keep Ravka secure. He would have to keep his priorities straight.

She’d asked him to come without his  _ nichevo’ya.  _ She was a fool. His horde would be key to defending Ravka now that the Fold was gone. And besides, if he wanted to rule as her equal, he would need to act like it.

He had the leverage of his own life, after all. If she wanted to keep him around, she wouldn’t kill him. And there wasn’t anything — or anyone — else she could hold against him.

He would come to her as her equal, he decided. He would not crawl.

His monsters took hold of him and raised him into the air, flying him out of the Fold.

First, he needed to find out where she was. Perhaps she was in Os Alta, already seated in the throne he had made for her. He’d ask his Fabrikators if they had heard any news.

He made for the drydocks in Kribirsk.

He flew over the sands, over countless celebrating Ravkans. They often cowered at the sight of him passing overhead, and he had half a mind to send his  _ nichevo’ya  _ to slaughter some just to knock some sense into them. But he knew it would be counter productive. If he wanted Alina to work with him, to listen to him, then he needed to stay on her good side. She might get over her taste for  _ otkazats’ya  _ given enough time, but for now, she’d probably look down on him killing any of them.

He approached Kribirsk around noon. Blue and gold banners were flying from just about every rooftop, and there were people  _ dancing _ on the skiffs in the drydocks.

As he drew closer, however, the crowds scattered. He was about to send his  _ nichevo’ya _ to capture some of them, to ask if the Sun Summoner had announced herself yet, when his eyes were drawn by a flash of light. His gaze immediately snapped to its source: a white haired figure dressed in gold, who had just emerged from between the buildings flanking the dock. Her arms were lowered, yet she was surrounded by a glowing golden aura: a testimony to the power of the three amplifiers she bore.

She was flanked by only a small scattering of guards, just her rogue Summoners and Heartrenders. One of the Squallers — Zoya, judging by her black hair — had her arms raised to summon. A small cluster of First Army soldiers followed just behind them.

Alina raised a hand lazily, and the light flared around her. He could barely see her face, but her voice carried to him on the wind of the Squallers.

“Morozova.” She did not speak his name as an invitation, as she had yesterday. This time, it was a command.

He brought his monsters to a halt, holding him in mid air. His heart was pounding, but he’d spent the past few hours preparing himself for this conversation. He wouldn’t let his guard down.

“So formal,” he said, trying to summon his usual apathetic smile. “Hello, Alina.”

“I told you not to bring those things,” she said. “Get down here and walk. Or has the  _ merzost _ cost you your legs?”

He frowned slightly. He had such a careful balance to strike between politeness and weakness. He needed her respect, not her hatred or her mockery.

“I came to rule as your equal, Alina,” he said. “Is there not a please in order?”

Even at this distance, he could tell she was glaring at him. Had he pushed her too far?

“Please,” she said finally, though she tossed her hair over her shoulder and maintained her glare. Even so, he was pleasantly surprised, though he made sure not to show it. She must have been trying to stay on his good side, too.

He could work with this, he thought, as he descended to the ground. Several of his  _ nichevo’ya  _ landed beside him, while others remained hovering around and above him. He started walking towards Alina. She lowered her hand, letting go of the glare at her hand, but the golden aura surrounding her did not fade.

She was somehow even more regal than when she’d appeared to him on the Unsea. There was something different about her, and it wasn’t just the glowing aura. Was it just him, or was she taller than he remembered? Maybe she had just never dared to hold herself so high and to meet his gaze in the way she was doing now.

He could see the faint glitter of the sea whip scales on one wrist. And on the other… He caught the faintest glimpse of bone. The firebird.

He stopped a few feet away from her, and she smiled. It was a cruel, knowing sort of expression that he’d never glimpsed on her face before.

She said nothing, and after a few seconds the silence grew awkward. She was waiting for him to speak — forcing him to speak first, when he knew nothing and had nothing to say. She truly was a cruel thing.

“Shall we head to Os Alta?” he asked. “Our thrones await.”

Her smile widened slightly, but still, she said nothing.

Something akin to dread began to turn in his stomach. Why was she not speaking?

He stepped closer to her. She stiffened ever so slightly, a movement that would have gone unnoticed if it wasn’t for the intensity with which he watched her. Was she... Nervous? Was she afraid of him still? Was she not as powerful as he had thought? Or was there some other game afoot?

He pressed his advantage and reached out, taking hold of her chin. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes never left his, but her gaze burned with hate. Still, she said nothing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm bell was ringing.

He began to slide his hand down her throat towards the antler collar, but she tore herself away, stepping backwards and fixing him with that glare. Her aura flickered and dimmed.

A mixture of frustration and fear rose in his throat like bile, and he let it emerge from him in a low growl as he lunged forwards and took hold of the collar with both hands. He called her light. Just how much power had the firebird given her?

He reached for her power and… Failed. The amplifier didn’t so much as resonate beneath his touch.

Had the power of the third amplifier broken his hold over the first? Or had the amplifiers sacrificed their power, their  _ merzost, _ to destroy the  _ merzost  _ of the Fold? But surely that couldn’t be — he had seen the way the light had glowed around her without her even summoning.

Unless… Unless  _ she _ wasn’t the one summoning.

It wasn’t just him. She was definitely taller.

“You’re not Alina,” he snarled.

He let go of the collar and summoned the darkness to his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :00000  
> Yup, next chapter, things are going down.


	9. Killers and Kings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't delay your reading, my friends. I'll see you in the end notes.

“I hate this plan.”

“I know you do, Zoya,” Genya said. “You’ve only said it seven times so far. Now hold still so I can fix your eyebrows.”

“You mean ruin them.”

“In my opinion,” Nikolai said, looking up from whatever he was reading, “it’s fixing them.”

“You’re biased,” Zoya said. “Your opinion doesn’t count.”

“My opinion is easily the most important one here. I am royalty, after all.”

I snorted. “As a Saint, I think I outweigh.”

“And we all know what  _ your _ opinion is,” Zoya sighed.

“They are my eyebrows, after all,” I said, laughing. Genya grinned.

Looking at Zoya was an eerie experience. Her facial features were still the same — for now — but her hair was white, her eyes brown, and her skin pale. Genya had drained the black of Zoya’s hair color and seeped it into mine, then had gone and swapped our skin tones and our eye colors. Zoya simultaneously resembled herself, my own reflection, and an entirely different person altogether.

It might have been eerie looking at Zoya, but I just about lost my mind whenever I looked down at my own brown hands or black hair. It was like the jolt I’d had when Genya had first shown me my reflection — looking healthy and even beautiful for the first time ever — back at the Little Palace; or when I’d first looked in a mirror after my hair had turned white. Except it was even worse. I was becoming  _ Zoya. _

Genya sat the two of us next to each other and started working on the left hand side of Zoya’s face. She flattened the curve of the Squaller’s eyebrow, widened her jaw, lowered the corners of her eye, and pushed her cheekbone back. Then she set to work on the left side of my face. My skin itched as my bones shifted beneath Genya’s touch, gradually adopting Zoya’s features.

Genya returned to Zoya and altered the right side of her face, using me as a model. She then worked on the middle: widening Zoya’s nose and flattening its bridge, narrowing her lip, and — I noticed with glee — shrinking her two front teeth ever so slightly.

As she was doing so, there was a knock at the door, and Nikolai sighed. He had been working almost non stop since we had reached Kribirsk and declared the arrival of the Lantsov heir and the Sun Summoner: rallying the First Army, contacting nobility, writing proclamations, and meeting with countless people. He’d managed to catch a brief break between two such meetings and had joined us to watch Genya work, arriving just as she was switching our eye colors. Less than ten minutes had passed since then, but Tamar was already at the door, informing him of his next meeting.

He stood and walked to me, then paused to lean down and kiss my right cheek — which was still at least partially my own. He flashed his usual smile as he hurried to the door.

“When you guys are done, who am I supposed to kiss?” he said, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I suppose we’ll find out if I fell for Alina’s beauty or her brains.”

He winked at me as he slipped out the door. Tamar stuck her head in to wiggle her eyebrows at me, and I made as if to throw my shoe at her. She giggled as she shut the door.

“She’s been spending too much time with Nadia,” I grumbled.

Genya finished with Zoya and turned to start work on the right half of my face, using the left half as a model. We didn’t have any mirrors in the room — Genya said it would be far too disconcerting for us to encounter one — but Zoya paraded about like she was looking in one anyway. The nose she stuck in the air was mine, but the gesture was indisputably her own.

“I’m going to enjoy being a queen for a day,” she said. “I deserve it.”

“Zoya, you’ve always been a queen,” Genya said. “And we’ve all had the misfortune of being your subjects.”

“You mean the privilege.”

“My point is proven.” All three of us laughed.

Zoya and I studied each other as Genya worked on me. It was extraordinarily unnerving to see, well, myself -- and even more unnerving to see myself wearing Zoya’s trademark pained expression.

“Stop furrowing your brow,” Genya scolded gently. I did my best to relax, and her fingers started to move over my face again.

“Besides,” Genya added, “Zoya never thinks, so it would be out of character for you to make that face.” I grinned as Zoya let out an exasperated sigh, but there was a smile flitting at the corners of her mouth — the corners of  _ my _ mouth.

I was going to give myself a headache like this.

After Genya finished with our faces, Zoya and I swapped  _ keftas.  _ Genya and Zoya turned in for the night, but I went to join Nikolai in his study. It was late — possibly morning by this point — but I felt too jittery to be tired.

As Tolya led me to Nikolai’s office, I reviewed our plan for tomorrow as well as the past day’s events. After informing the crew of my visit with the Darkling, it had taken Nikolai a matter of minutes to come up with his… rather unorthodox plan. Zoya had vehemently objected, but he had simply ushered us all onto the  _ Bittern _ while saying that there was no time to spare. I had spent the journey practicing the summoning I would need to use, and the time had passed all too quickly.

We’d landed in the lake where we’d crashed and I’d first learned that Sturmhond was Nikolai. It seemed like such a long time ago now that I had punched him and almost gotten shot for it. From there, we’d made haste to Kribirsk, getting there just as dusk was falling. We’d wanted to announce ourselves near the scene of my triumph over the Fold — and where better than Kribirsk, whose church bore the names of those claimed by the Unsea.

Tamar had managed to go on ahead of even us and fetch Nikolai a proper fitting First Army uniform. We’d announced Nikolai’s arrival so that I didn’t overshadow him — literally or figuratively — and only once the crowds had cheered his name did we bring me in.

My mere presence had almost started a riot.

I was divinity itself to these Ravkans — a living Saint, complete with a miracle in the destruction of the Fold. Tolya, Tamar, and Mal did their best to keep the crowd from trampling me in their efforts to touch me or take a strand of my hair. I put on a light show for them, said a blessing I remembered from my time with the Apparat, and kissed Nikolai — to the cheers of the crowd — before following him into the royal pavilion, which had been freshly cleared of the Darkling’s symbols. Nikolai had set to work taking back control of his country, while I had set to work sitting very still and practicing my best Zoya impression. David had stopped by early on to detach the now-useless collar from my neck and reforge it around Zoya’s, as well as to fuse the sea whip scales around her wrist. As soon as he’d finished with those two, he’d kissed Genya and scurried from the room, muttering something about a tiara. Zoya’s own amplifier — tiger bones, she told me — would remain around her arm as an impersonation of the firebird.

During the long and tedious process of swapping skin tones, I’d told Zoya — and Genya, too — every detail of my history with the Darkling that I could remember, just in case it would be relevant to Zoya’s impersonation of me before the Darkling. I’d been hesitant, but neither of them judged or blanched, not even during my description of the winter fete. They both knew just how strong the lure of the Darkling could be.

But the Darkling had merely wanted me — just like Mal had. There was only one man who truly loved me.

I entered his office with a smile.

Nikolai was working — of course. The room was filled with candles in an attempt to keep away the darkness. I summoned and brought some proper light to the room. Nikolai turned, but the relieved smile on his face dissolved into a brief flash of confusion when he saw me. Just as quickly, he schooled it into a laugh.

“I think this is quite possibly the worst idea I have ever had,” Nikolai said. “You really do look exactly like Zoya. It’s disturbing.”

“Genya said we actually already looked pretty similar. Our hair, facial structure, and body types weren’t that different. The only problem is that she’s a few inches taller than me, but hopefully no one will notice, or they’ll just write it off as the intimidating Saint persona.”

“She’s had that down since the day she was born,” Nikolai said drily as he turned back to his work. “I’m surprised she hasn’t made herself one through sheer force of will.”

“Do you have any more meetings?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That was the last one for today. Everyone’s gone to sleep.”

“Except for you?”

“In all things, I truly am an exceptional man.”

I laughed softly and rolled my eyes. “You should still sleep. There’s going to be even more to do starting tomorrow. You might as well rest while you still can.”

He looked up at me as if to say something, only to briefly freeze when his eyes landed on me.

“Saints,” he said. “I really am regretting this whole face-swapping thing. It gets me every time.”

“Well, if you really are planning on working all night, don’t let me distract you,” I said. I reclined on a red plush sofa in the back of the room and closed my eyes, listening to the scratch of his quill on paper. Eventually, though, it faltered, and I heard him sigh. Something clicked inside my head.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” I asked. “That’s why you don’t want to sleep.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Last night,” he finally began, “you slept the whole time. Before, you’ve always woken me before they get too bad. But last night, you were simply too tired to do that.”

A chill ran up my spine. Previously, I’d woken whenever he had tensed beside me, and I had been able to rouse him before the nightmare could drag on too long. But last night, I’d slept and slept and hadn’t woken once. I’d failed, in a sense.

“How bad did it get?” I asked hoarsely. He swallowed.

“I don’t ever want to sleep again,” he whispered. He stared into the middle distance, his quill trembling, forgotten, between his fingers.

I wanted to promise that I would wake him from those nightmares in the future> I wanted to promise that it would get better with time. I wanted to promise that it would be okay.

But instead, I made him a promise I knew I could keep.

“I’ll keep my light on for you,” I said.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll need as much of your power as possible for tomorrow.”

“I’m keeping my light on,” I repeated. “All through the night.”

He didn’t look in my direction — I was still wearing Zoya’s face, after all — but he smiled wanly.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

When I woke, my bones were sore from sleeping on the sofa, but I was happy to see that my light was still shining. There was plenty of morning light streaming in through the windows, however, so I let go of it. Nikolai turned to look at me as I rose to my feet. He didn’t look tired, but judging by the orange  _ jurda _ stains on his teeth and the steaming cup of tea in his hand, he was starting to feel the consequences of his lack of sleep.

“You’re really giving your all to this Zoya impression,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “You’ve already got the sleeping in mastered.”

“Very funny,” I said, straightening Zoya’s kefta. The silver embroidery felt strange to wear, but at least it was still Summoner blue.

I might have slept in again, but I didn’t feel super well rested. Due to some combination of my anxiety, my lack of proximity to Nikolai, my own nightmares, and simply the inferiority of sofas to proper beds, I had slept rather poorly.

“Apparently our favorite Saint and Sun Queen is awake and taking visitors,” Nikolai continued as he set down his tea cup. “Are you ready to attend to her?”

I snorted as I followed him out of the room and through the pavilion. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be,” I said, “but at the very least I’ll need breakfast and you’ll need Genya to whiten your teeth.”

“Supposedly Mal gave Harshaw the rations,” Nikolai said. “Mal himself left at around dawn to start tracking the Darkling.”

I nodded. We were hoping that the news of our arrival in Kribirsk would reach the Darkling’s ears and bring him to our doorstep, but Nikolai always had a back up plan. Nikolai had arranged for Mal to take a two-person skiff, propelled by Adrik, onto the Unsea so we could try to pin down the Darkling’s location.

We reached the foyer of the pavilion and I almost stopped dead in my tracks. Standing before the doors stood  _ me.  _ My brain knew that it was Zoya wearing my face, but it felt like I was seeing myself through someone else’s eyes.

She stood tall in my glittering golden  _ kefta, _ looking more like a Saint than I suspected I ever had. Her newly white hair had been brushed until it gleamed, and her eyelashes were darkened to draw attention to her blazing eyes. The  _ kefta _ was a little bit short for her, but they had compensated by shortening the collar, which had the advantage of making the antler collar all the more visible. By the same token, the sleeves were a touch too short as well, but it ensured the sea whip’s fetter and the fake firebird bones could just barely be glimpsed peeking out from under her cuffs.

She was flanked by Tamar and Genya, the latter holding what at first glance looked like a porcupine headband. On second glance, however, it became clear that it was a brass tiara: a metal semicircle topped with outwardly radiating spines that resembled the rays of a rising sun. So  _ that’s _ what David had gone to work on when he’d left us the previous evening.

Genya slipped the tiara onto Zoya’s head, weaving her white hair over the band so that only the spines were visible. She stepped back, nodding in satisfaction with her work. I inhaled sharply.

Zoya had become the sun. Her face was the center of a sunburst, her radiant beauty shining like a sunrise. The words  _ Sol Koroleva  _ rose to my lips, unbidden.

My _ radiant beauty,  _ I realized belatedly. That was my face, my hair, my skin. The regal expression was Zoya’s, but it could have been mine, too.

The spell was broken by Genya’s voice.

“ _ Moi tsa—  _ Nikolai, there is no way you are heading out with teeth like that,” Genya said.

“I told you so,” I said, smiling playfully, as the Tailor set to work removing the  _ jurda _ stains from his teeth. As she worked, I joined Zoya by the door. I kept my voice down, as there were people and guards around who weren’t part of our little conspiracy.

“You look like a sea urchin,” I whispered. She did, but only a little.

“You mean  _ Alina _ looks like a sea urchin,” Zoya hissed back. She kept her expression detached and queenly, but her eyes — my eyes — glittered with a smile. I suppressed my laugh and merely stuck my nose in the air in my best Zoya impression.

“You’re putting that beauty of mine to shame,” Zoya whispered. “Did you even brush that hair of mine this morning?”

“Nope.” I hid my smile.

“You’re shameless, did you know that?”

“You mean  _ Zoya’s  _ shameless,” I said, and this time I couldn’t hide the smile that spread across my face.

Tamar tapped my shoulder — my cue to exit. I needed to be in place and out of sight before Zoya and Nikolai made their appearance, so that nobody would notice me summoning in Zoya’s stead.

I slipped through the front doors, marveling at the size of the crowd already gathered outside in the square. Hundreds of eyes focused on me as I emerged, but quickly turned back to the doors — they were clearly waiting for either Nikolai or, more likely, the Sun Saint.

I nearly laughed at that thought. They were waiting for Sankta Alina — they were waiting for  _ me.  _ And here I was walking right past of them, and only a few of them were still looking at me.

I kept my head held high as I walked, and not just because it was what Zoya would do. Regardless of the face I wore, I was still Alina. I had destroyed the Shadow Fold and, even without my amplifiers, I would defeat the Darkling and save Ravka. I could afford to be proud of myself, for once.

Nadia and Harshaw were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. Together, we made our way back through the crowd until we reached a back corner of the square where we would have a good view but be relatively out of sight. I did my best to imitate Zoya’s frosty glare and managed to scatter several of the civilians who had occupied the corner.

“I could almost hear Zoya’s voice telling them to scram,” Nadia remarked as we took our places. I grinned at her in a decidedly un-Zoya-like fashion, and she smiled back. Harshaw gave me a bread roll. I was famished from having used my power all night, so I devoured it quickly. I then leaned against the wall behind me, trying my best to look casual while I raised my arms, ready to summon.

A matter of moments later, the doors opened, and I called the light.

The crowd roared as light spilled from the doorway, revealing Nikolai Lantsov and the Sun Saint, arm in arm as they walked out into the square, guarded by Tolya, Tamar, and several soldiers of the First Army. Nikolai smiled and waved to the adoring crowd, while Zoya’s expression remained regal and saintly.

I summoned the light not to me, but to Zoya, surrounding her in a gentle aura. With a little bit of focus, I brightened the light around the tiara to form a kind of halo as well as to emphasize the radiant effect of the crown. She was not just the Sun Summoner; she was the sun itself.

The celebrations in Kribirsk were in full swing, and Nikolai and Zoya-as-Alina were at the center of them. Nikolai held his meetings out in the square with Zoya on his arm; they needed to be visible to all the world. And, of course, they needed to be ready in case the Darkling arrived.

And arrive he did.

In the distance, in the direction of the drydocks, a trumpet blared: two short blasts. The signal that the Darkling had been sighted… and that he had been sighted with his  _ nichevo’ya _ in tow.

I swore as Nadia, Harshaw, and I moved into position around the road to the docks. I started moving forwards so that I could have a head start while Nadia crossed to the other side and Harshaw waited so that he could follow behind Zoya and Nikolai. Meanwhile, Tolya, Tamar, and the rest of the guards called instructions to the crowds to shelter and clear the streets. We’d prepared spaces ahead of time in the area once occupied by the Darkling’s Grisha pavilion.

Zoya-as-me made her way down the road, Tolya and Tamar at her sides. Nadia and myself stayed slightly ahead of them and spread to the wings, while Harshaw fell into position behind them. Hopefully, we would be dismissed as nothing more than guards in formation.

A small group of First Army soldiers tailed us, but the largest number of them had gone with Nikolai on an alternate route to the drydocks. Nikolai had insisted on being present — he wanted to be near me if something went wrong — but we wanted to keep him out of the Darkling’s sight. 

My heart stuttered in my chest when I spotted the Darkling, held high by a swarm of his dark monsters as he approached the city. 

_ You have no reason to fear,  _ I told myself.  _ The Darkling dies today. _

I let the light flare a little brighter at that.

We moved into the open space between the town and the drydocks. Zoya, to her credit, seemed completely unfazed by the Darkling and his horde. Nadia and I spread out, as if we were merely following protocol as guards. But really, we were just trying to get me into a flanking position without drawing attention.

If I had faced the Darkling in my own skin, he would recognize the motion of the Cut and be able to protect himself. But if he wasn’t watching me — because he didn’t realize who I was, for instance — I could try to get him from behind.

Zoya raised her hand, and I flared the light around it so that it would look like she was summoning it. In reality, she was creating the current of air that would carry my voice to the Darkling — and would also conveniently make my voice sound like it was coming from her.

She opened her mouth, as if to speak, and I filled in the word for her.

“Morozova,” I said. The wind snatched the word my lips, and I could scarcely hear my own voice. Zoya did her best to move her mouth so that it would seem like she was speaking. It wasn’t perfect, though; we couldn’t keep up the facade much longer if the Darkling kept getting closer.

Fortunately, he came to a halt at the force in my voice. We needed to get him on the ground, where I could come around behind him, and we needed to separate him from his monsters to open up a clear shot.

He spoke, and I had to strain to listen. Between the distance and the flapping of the wings of the  _ nichevo’ya, _ it was rather hard to hear him.

“I told you not to bring those things. Get down here and walk,” I said, Zoya carrying my words towards the Darkling. “Or has the  _ merzost _ cost you your legs?” I added. I couldn’t come across as weak or afraid, only petty and merciless.

“I came to rule as your equal, Alina,” the Darkling said. “Is there not a please in order?”

I could see Zoya gritting her teeth, seething with hate for the man hovering overhead. I felt the same way, but we needed him to come closer, to lower his suspicions. And if a few polite words were what it took to do that, I could bear their sour taste in my mouth.

“Please,” I said, hoping to convey a healthy amount of exasperation but none of the disgust that roiled within me. Zoya, sensing my tone, tossed her hair in her usual arrogant manner.

The Darkling descended, and Zoya stopped summoning, severing the wind connection between us. He’d gotten too close for us to get away with that trick anymore, and it forced me to keep up my own summoning.

But as the Darkling landed, so did several of his monsters. They remained around him as he approached Zoya. They were going to block my view. Zoya managed to retain an appearance of calm, but my throat went dry with panic as my heart fled down my spine.

I noted Nadia starting to move at the edge of my vision, and I shook lose of my panic long enough to walk forwards. The Darkling and I passed each other, and I slipped into position behind of him, out of sight. He only had eyes for Zoya and her impeccable impression of a victorious Sun Saint.

But once I was behind him, it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to hit him. There were simply too many monsters walking by him or hovering about him. I swore under my breath, knowing that the noise of the  _ nichevo’ya  _ wings would hide my voice.

“That isn’t ladylike, you know,” Nikolai whispered in my ear. I’d been so focused on the Darkling, I hadn’t even noticed him creep up next to me.

I couldn’t match Nikolai’s ability to maintain his humor even under duress. “I can’t hit him,” I hissed. I swore again as the Darkling came to a stop in front of Zoya. He’d see through our ruse any minute now.

There was a faint click as Nikolai cocked a revolver beside me.

“That won’t work,” I whispered. “It has to be either my power or his.”

He unlocked the cylinder, lowered it, and slipped a bullet out of the topmost chamber. “Can you use your power on this?” he asked. “You’ve woven light around your skin, can you weave it around the bullet?”

I blanched. I was distantly aware of the Darkling talking to Zoya.

“I’d have to drop her aura,” I said. “He’ll know something’s wrong.”

“Would you still have to drop it if you used the shadow power you stole from him?”

I glanced over to Zoya and the Darkling. He had taken hold of her chin and… He was going to reach for the collar. We were out of time, out of options.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered. Nikolai gave me a resigned smile.

I did my best to maintain the aura with one hand as I used the other to cloak the bullet in shadow. The light around Zoya dimmed as she tore herself out of the Darkling’s grasp, but I managed to keep it from going out entirely.

“Go!” I hissed as Nikolai slid the bullet into the chamber and locked the cylinder back into position. The Darkling was lunging for Zoya now. He grabbed hold of the collar.

“You only have one bullet,” I breathed. “Be careful.”

“Luckily for you, Alina,” Nikolai replied as he took aim, “I’m an excellent dancer.”

“What —”

“You’re not Alina,” the Darkling snarled. He let go of the collar as Zoya stumbled away from him, both of them raising their arms to summon. Darkness pooled around the Darkling’s hands as the  _ nichevo’ya _ surged forwards, only to be met by a blast of Zoya’s wind. For the briefest of moments, as the monsters tumbled backwards, the Darkling’s head came into view.

“And an even better shot,” Nikolai finished, and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
> Ah. Nikolina: the way life should be.  
> I love all of you guys so much for reading this far. All that's left is the epilogue, which I'm publishing simultaneously. I'll put all the gushy stuff in those end notes.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, my friends. This one's rather on the long end. But then again, you could say the same thing of this entire fic.  
> I love you all, and I'll see you in the end notes.

Zoya held her breath and dug in her heels, straining her wind to its limits to shove the _nichevo’ya_ away from her. The ones in the air were caught in the current and thrown backwards, but her heart plummeted as those on the ground managed to hold their positions. The wind hadn’t just been to keep the monsters from tearing her apart — Zoya’s survival was out of her hands at this point — but to clear them out of Alina’s sight line, so that the Sun Summoner could strike at the Darkling.

The Darkling’s hands had reached their zenith, black energy crackling between them. Zoya had seen Alina use the Cut enough times to know what it looked like. _It’s a pity I’ll die wearing Alina’s face and not my own,_ she thought. _I hope Genya still turns me back after the battle is over. Assuming the Cut doesn’t horribly mutilate my body, that is._

_And assuming that we win._

She exhaled. She’d done her best to help. Perhaps it would be enough, perhaps it wouldn’t. She didn’t bother to pray to any Saints. There was only one that mattered, and she was busy.

But for some reason, the Darkling didn’t bring his hands down in the Cut. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and the darkness between his fingers vanished. Half a moment later, so did the _nichevo’ya._

The Darkling’s knees gave way, and his body tumbled — dead — into the dirt.

All around her, voices broke into raucous cheering. But Zoya could only look up and meet the gaze of a certain Saint in Summoner blue. Zoya’s own sparkling blue eyes looked back at her. They were filled with not only the joy of victory, but the shock of merely _surviving._

Zoya ran, throwing her flawless — if she did say so herself — Saint impression to the wind. She threw her arms around Alina and buried her face in the familiar blue _kefta,_ eager to hide her tears.

Her aunt was dead. But the Shadow Fold that had killed her was gone, and now the man responsible for her death was lying in the dirt. No more towns would fall before the Darkling’s wrath.

And, most important of all: Mal was safe. Alive. Missing a few fingers, perhaps, but alive. And now, they could finally just… live in peace.

“That wasn’t a very dignified run for a Saint, Zoya,” Alina whispered in her ear, making her laugh over her tears. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were _trying_ to make me look bad.”

“You always look bad next to me,” she sniffed, and it was Alina’s turn to laugh. “At least you killing the Darkling while wearing my face might finally get me the attention I deserve.”

“It was Nikolai who fired the shot, actually,” Alina said, nudging him with her elbow. “We should go so that we don’t steal his spotlight.”

Nikolai grinned, the revolver still held in his hand, the faintest wisp of smoke clinging to its barrel. “Go have Genya swap your faces back,” he whispered, “before my overwhelming desire to kiss Alina overcomes my resistance to kissing Zoya.”

The two Grisha stepped away from the prince, both beaming, only to hear doglike yapping and howling as Tamar barreled into Alina and buried her in a hug. At her side, Nadia’s smile seemed like it might just tear her face in two as she grabbed hold of Zoya’s hands and spun around her, laughing. Even Harshaw and Tolya were grinning.

The crowd of First Army soldiers followed not far behind their friends. Cries of “Sankta!” filled the air, and for a moment nervousness filled Zoya’s belly.

“I’m pretty sure impersonating a Saint is a sin,” Zoya whispered to Alina as the crowd approached her reverently.

Alina snorted. “Just redirect their attention to Nikolai. That’ll keep him happy.”

Zoya straightened, tossing back her white hair. If she really had been a Sun Summoner, she would definitely have used her power to make her hair flash with light. Just to draw people’s attention.

“Citizens of Ravka!” she declared. “The Darkling lies dead, slain by the hand of your King!”

Faces turned to where Nikolai stood, holding the literal smoking gun. He raised an eyebrow at the two Grisha, then raised the revolver to his lips and blew away the smoke.

Zoya’s gaze, however, was drawn by the motion of Alina twisting her wrists. Just as suddenly, the woman wearing Zoya’s own face vanished from view. Then a hand grabbed her arm and was pulling her along.

 _She took advantage of the distraction to turn the two of us invisible,_ Zoya realized.

“How is Nikolai resistant to kissing me?” Zoya huffed as the two of them ran through the alleys back to the royal pavilion. “It’s not like anyone else is. Maybe I’ll just refuse to let Genya swap our faces. He’s bound to cave eventually, and I wouldn’t mind kissing a prince.”

Alina laughed, and Zoya grinned, though she knew Alina couldn’t see it.

“I might be fine with that plan,” Alina said, “except I’d have to put up with Mal bragging about finally tumbling me.”

 _“Alina!”_ Zoya cried indignantly.

***

Zoya and I ran up the stairs to the royal pavilion. I knocked twice, then paused for a moment, and knocked a third time — our signal to Genya to open the door.

I could already hear Genya shouting our names before the door was even open. I dropped the invisibility and rushed into her waiting hug.

“It’s so odd hugging Zoya,” she said. I laughed and stepped back, then gasped.

“Genya!” I cried. “Your scars!”

The black furrows that had once marred her face were gone, replaced by faint silver lines. I almost wept at the sight of it.

She raised a hand to her face absent mindedly

“David told me the black marks were gone, then kissed me and left, saying he had work to do,” Genya said. “Are they really gone?”

“You need a mirror, Tailor,” Zoya said, sighing, as she started through the pavilion. “Follow me.”

Zoya had led us to some bedroom or other in the pavilion. Genya only spent a minute or two looking in the mirror before ushering into chairs and insisting on restoring our faces. But amidst the focus in her eyes, I could see joy, relief, and the faint glimmer of tears.

The Tailoring went a little quicker than the last time, taking just under two hours. Genya had always worked efficiently and effectively, but either because she had experience working with our faces now, or because it was simply faster to restore a face than to create a new one, she was able to work a little faster than usual. I noted that she didn’t restore Zoya’s front teeth to their original size.

David stopped by in the middle of the session. He removed the collar from Zoya’s neck and the fetter from her wrist, kissed the top of Genya’s head, and departed just as quickly as he had come. He was clearly up to something.

Once our appearances had been restored, Zoya and I swapped _keftas._ Genya moved the sun crown from Zoya’s head to mine and tucked my hair over the band. Zoya said she didn’t mind and that it was incredibly garish anyways. I said she’d looked nice wearing it when she was me, and she snorted.

“I remember you saying something about a sea urchin,” she added drily, and we laughed.

We insisted on dragging Genya with us as we went to join the celebration that was now raging by the drydocks. We were surprised to find David waiting for us by the door, holding a bundle of cloth in his arms.

Genya gasped as David handed her a red _kefta_ embroidered in blue — the product of his time spent working. He must have spent a lot of time on it the previous night in order to have finished it. She shrugged it on immediately. It fit her perfectly, but that was no surprise.

She’d kissed him and he’d ushered her out the door to join us.

“I don’t like parties,” he said. “But you might want the world to see you.”

Whether or not he was referring to the disappearance of her scars, his words clearly delighted Genya. She kissed him again, and then the three of us set out through the city.

We were instantly swarmed, of course, but the ferocity in Zoya’s gaze prevented us from being trampled. She cleared a path for us with little more than a raised eyebrow. I supposed the presence of a living Saint didn’t hurt, but it was her sense of authority that was doing all the heavy lifting.

Nikolai was, of course, at the center of everything. At first glance, he would have seemed perfectly at home there, just as he always was, literally holding court over an adoring audience. But I sensed that he wasn’t quite perfectly relaxed.

That tension evaporated as soon as he saw me. He had been smiling before, but now he was _really_ smiling. Heads near him turned to follow his gaze, their expressions turning reverent as soon as they landed on me. Heads not near him had already been looking in my direction.

The crowd parted before Zoya’s wrathful gaze, and I made my way to Nikolai. A silence fell over the square as I reached him. Before he could have a chance to speak, I raised myself onto my toes and kissed him.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but I could only focus on Nikolai. When we finally broke apart, he smiled and pressed his forehead against my own. Then he leaned back and looked to where Genya stood at my right side.

“Please tell me that that was Alina who I just kissed,” he said.

We left the next morning for Os Alta. Tamar and the others took the _Bittern_ back to Caryeva to pick up the students, but they would then head to Os Alta to start preparations for the coronation — which would take place as soon as we arrived in the capital. Nikolai and I, however, took the long way, riding down the Vy like we had after Nikolai as Sturmhond had rescued me from the Darkling and brought me back to Ravka. Just as we had done then, we stopped in just about every town along the way, and meeting with nobles and peasants and everyone in between.

The one difference was that there were even more pilgrims than the last time. The White Cathedral must have emptied — after all, why stay in a dark cave when you could come bask in the Sun Saint’s own light aboveground?

We were eventually contacted by the Apparat himself, asking for a meeting. Both Nikolai and I had serious bones to pick with the man, but we needed his support, at least for now. My Sainthood granted legitimacy to a reign desperately in need of it — a bastard king and his Grisha queen. We arranged a meeting and, after almost an hour of tense discussion, reached our agreement.

The Apparat would give sermons at the coronation and at our wedding — a topic of conversation that still seemed unreal to me — and would then go to establish a shrine to me, Sankta Alina, at Keramzin. Mal and Adrik were already leading Ana Kuya and the orphanage back to the estate. I’d also asked them to take any members of the Soldat Sol who had arrived in Caryeva with them to help run the orphanage. Keeping the Apparat there would allow the Soldat Sol to work with him in promoting my Sainthood while also keeping an eye on him. Ana Kuya had told me that the pilgrims were already flocking to see my childhood home; we might as well allow them a way to do it that didn’t get under the housekeeper’s feet. Besides, we could always funnel the pilgrims’ donations towards the upkeep of the orphanage.

I put on little demonstrations at every town we stopped in, for the sake of pilgrims and peasants. I heard the whispers of my many names: Sun Summoner, Sankta Alina, Sol Koroleva. I heard the whispers of Nikolai’s new name, too: Korol Neba, King of the Sky. It was a fitting title for a former Prince of the Air.

At night, the two of us stayed in our own private tent, one made of heavy canvas that blocked out the light I summoned to chase away the shadows. Nikolai still didn’t like sleeping, but he knew — and I never ceased to remind him — that he wouldn’t be able to function without it. Each evening would end with me holding him, running my fingers through his hair until we both drifted into sleep. I still had to wake him from his nightmares, but as time passed, they lessened — though they didn’t vanish entirely. 

We spent the time on the road discussing our plans for Ravka. Although Nikolai wasn’t currently planning on changing how the government worked — despite my earnest suggestions that we kick out all the nobles and put an end to the court shenanigans that Genya had told me about — he had some pretty radical ideas when it came to the army.

There would be no more First or Second Army, we decided. There would just be one Ravkan army. The Grisha would still maintain an important role, of course, but now it would be more of a job title. There would be Squallers and Heartrenders joining the trackers and cartographers.

The Ravkan navy would be supplemented by Sturmhond’s fleet — who were to be officially hired by the crown — as well as by Tidemakers. And there would be a Ravkan Air Corps, where Squallers flew ships equipped with the gravity fed guns of Nikolai’s design. Nikolai was already mapping out potential hanger locations and sketching new prototypes for wheeled vessels that could take off and land in open fields.

I also recounted what Fedyor had told me about the bulletproof corecloth of the _kefta,_ and we talked about incorporating it into First Army uniforms. We could free up time for the Materialki to work on them if we gave each Grisha just one _kefta_ for all seasons, and if we stopped using corecloth in the Grisha’s breeches (had no one else realized that that was redundant?).

We spent a lot of time discussing leadership. Nikolai’s first suggestion had actually been to make me the general of the army. I’d served in the First, led the Second, and united the whole country in destroying the Fold: I would make a good symbol for the union of the two Ravkan armies. He wasn’t wrong, but I still pointed out that that wouldn’t necessarily make me a good general.

In addition, we’d still have to keep around a lot of the old brass. We would demote anyone who was unwilling to work with the Grisha — it was a bit of a job requirement — but that meant we had to take on just about everyone else. Many of them had useful experience, but there were still several less competent ones who we’d probably have to keep around for sheer politick. We needed their support, we needed the manpower, and we needed the continuity. I wasn’t happy with it, but Nikolai assured me that meant it was the proper solution.

Eventually, we decided on our proposal. Nikolai and myself, as monarchs, would be the supreme commanders of the army. It wouldn’t be an entirely ceremonial position — Nikolai had plenty of experience as an officer, and I could still do serious damage as an Etherealki. But the daily running of the army would be handled by a military council made up of the old brass plus Nevsky (who had sent word that the Twenty Second was still alive and well at the Spinning Wheel); Privyet (who was occupied with running Sturmhond’s fleet and as a result probably would never come to any actual meetings); and representatives of the Grisha like David and Genya. The foremost generals on the council were to be Zoya and Mal.

I’d argued that Mal hadn’t deserted the king’s trackers — he had deserted the Darkling’s trackers. When he had left, he had been on the hunt for the stag on the Darkling’s orders, not on the king’s or the army’s. And as the Darkling had been the enemy, Mal’s desertion didn’t make him a traitor, it made him a _hero._ It was convincing enough that Nikolai suggested I take his case to the council myself — after all, as the Sun Saint, I had a lot of credibility when it came to being a hero of Ravka.

I had a surprising amount of confidence in Mal and Zoya’s ability to lead. The two worked well together, challenging but never doubting each other. We hoped that the demonstration of teamwork and trust between a First Army tracker and a Second Army Squaller at the highest level of leadership would inspire cooperation among those below. Neither was very good at taking orders, but I suspected they would be excellent at giving them — Mal through charm, and Zoya through fear.

Of course, we hoped that the army wouldn’t have to be put to use for some time, but we were both aware of the risk of our situation. The Shadow Fold had long been Fjerda and Shu Han’s greatest weapon against Ravka — its destruction, combined with the death of the Darkling and the instability of Nikolai’s ascension, might prompt the two nations to invade and try to break Ravka altogether before it could reach its full strength.

In anticipation of that, Nikolai had drafted three letters. The one addressed to Kerch offered protection from piracy in return for an alliance and favorable loan terms. The other two, one for Fjerda and one for Shu Han, I found completely absurd. They started off with Nikolai stating that in eight months, on the summer solstice, he would marry the Sun Summoner — me. He then wrote that I was looking forward to this date, and that if any military activity caused its delay or disruption, I would likely take my anger out on the offending nation. Specifically, I would not only immolate the army responsible, but likely cross the border to lay waste to towns and farmland. As neither of us particularly wanted me marching around killing thousands of civilians, Nikolai suggested that both nations adhere to a truce until after the wedding had taken place.

After he had finished writing them, he had had me focus light at the tip of my finger to burn my own name into the paper beneath his signature. My name was a promise, and a threat — a threat to unleash the same power that had destroyed the Shadow Fold in the blink of an eye.

The extent of my power was an exaggeration, but not as much as it once would have been. I might have lacked an amplifier when I fought the Darkling, but I had now found myself a replacement.

The night of our victory over the Darkling, before we’d burned his body, Tolya had made sure to remove one of his ribs and a few of his finger bones. After I had practically dragged Nikolai back to the royal pavilion before he fell asleep on his feet, David had forged the Darkling’s bones into a bracelet at my wrist.

Just like when we’d reforged the collar, we’d made this amplifier more out of hope than out of any real belief it would work. Grisha theory had been very clear that you could only ever have one amplifier. Morozova’s amplifiers had flown in the face of that, but that had sort of been the point. They’d been designed to go together — the Darkling’s bones hadn’t. At least, I was virtually certain they hadn’t. He had been Ilya Morozova’s grandson, though I doubted that counted for anything.

But I didn’t have any amplifiers anymore. Losing amplifiers wasn’t exactly a common occurrence, and Grisha theory had nothing to say on the matter. So we forged a ring of bone around my wrist, and hoped.

For once, though, hope had worked. I’d tried summoning after the bracelet was complete, and the light that had answered was bright and plentiful. The Darkling was a very powerful amplifier indeed. I still wasn’t anywhere near as strong as what I had gotten used to while wearing the sea whip’s fetter; I didn’t think I was even as strong as I’d been with just the collar. But I felt _dangerous_ again.

The other consequence of wearing the Darkling’s bones was that it amplified the power I had stolen from him, and it did so in spectacular fashion. I hadn’t been sure that I would even manage to keep a hold of the shadow summoning after his death, thinking it might disappear like the _nichevo’ya_ or Genya’s scars. But Mal’s words played in my mind: _it’s something you took from him._ I’d taken it and made it my own, and I had held onto it.

Perhaps, though, I should have expected that the Darkling’s bones would interact with his power in a rather extraordinary fashion. Before, my shadow summoning had been almost useless, little more than a parlor trick. But now, it was about as strong as my light summoning had been when I hadn’t had any amplifiers. It was untrained and still the weaker of my two powers, so I wasn’t about to be using it in battle, but I suspected that if I could figure out how to combine the two… Then I truly might be able to bring down the kind of wrath that Nikolai’s letters had promised.

And of course, there was one last effect of wearing the Darkling’s bones. He really would be with me for the rest of my life. But at least his power could be used for good. Perhaps that redemption that Baghra had sought for him could be found at last.

Our friends were waiting for us when we arrived in Os Alta. The coronation was the next day at noon, and as our group walked through the Grand Palace, Genya briefed us on their preparations. But as soon as Nikolai had ushered us into one of the palace’s private meeting rooms, I dropped all regal composure and buried my friends in hugs.

Nikolai and Mal chuckled behind me as Genya, Zoya, Tamar, and Nadia mobbed me. I cast a helpless look at David and Tolya, and even they cracked a few smiles.

“We went to the Spinning Wheel and brought back all your dresses!” Nadia crowed.

“Including the cobalt lace,” Tamar said, grinning fiendishly.

Genya had already slipped around behind me to run her fingers through my hair.

“Dinner’s in an hour,” said the Tailor. “You’re wearing it.”

“Not you, too, Genya!” I groaned. We all laughed.

“David’s gone and made you a proper crown,” Genya continued. “You’ll look fantastic in it. David really did an excellent job.“ The Fabrikator, who had been demurely standing off to the side, looked up and blushed. Genya beamed at him before turning back to me.

“Now,” she said, “since you are the future queen of Ravka, we might as well go to the room where I always used to Tailor the previous queen.”

“Oh Genya, you don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m not going to ask you to keep being the Queen’s Tailor, I know how much you hated it—”

“Nonsense. You would really let someone other than me manage your appearance?”

“Um,” I began, “I was thinking of just, you know, doing it myself…”

Genya’s eyes just about bulged out of her head at that. My friends laughed as Genya grabbed my arm and marched me from the room.

I ended up not wearing the cobalt lace.

Instead, Genya picked a dark gleaming sapphire gown from the collection. Its skirt and hems had been embroidered with gold threads that made the whole dress glitter and catch the light — a perfect dress for the Sun Summoner. Of course, it fit perfectly.

After putting on the dress, Genya placed a slender silver tiara — another gift from David — atop my head. The full crown would have to wait until after I married Nikolai, but this one was beautiful in its own way. It was shaped like a crescent moon, and interlaid with tiny diamonds that glittered like stars.

I told Genya about our plans for the army as she did my hair, waving the underneath of it to give it volume while leaving the visible hair straight and sleek. 

“Saints, Alina,” she said when I finished. “I’ll have to take orders from _Zoya?”_

I grinned. “And Mal, too.”

She shuddered. “That’s almost as bad as the fact that you’ve put _me_ in charge of the Corporalki. Why not Tamar?”

“Tamar and Nadia are going to be leading the new Air Corps, so Tamar will be on the council with you. But we needed someone else to represent the Corporalki.”

“But I’m not a Heartrender! They’ll never follow me, Alina.”

“Well, I remember that the distinction between Healers and Heartrenders lies entirely in training. And if that’s the case, then you could still receive that training and take on that title. In fact, I see no reason why you couldn’t train to be _both,_ given time. And then it would make perfect sense for them to follow you.”

“Alina. You’re kidding.” Genya had finished working with my hair, and it gently slipped from her fingers as she stared at me with wide eyes.

“I asked the Corporalki instructor of the Grisha students before we left Kribirsk. As soon as they arrive, she’s to provide you with private lessons, when your schedule allows.”

Her jaw fell open, and I laughed. She immediately snapped it shut and beamed, laughing as we hugged each other.

“Besides,” I said, “how could they _not_ follow you? You’re marvelous.”

“I have to be,” she said, “to stand next to the Sun Summoner.”

I swatted her hand.

“I don’t think I even need to work on your face,” she continued. “You’re beautiful, Alina.”

I blushed, and she grabbed my hand. “Besides, we don’t have time for it anyways. Come on!”

I put on my Saint face again as we walked as quickly as we could while still being considered regal.

“Will I still have time to do your hair, even with the new job?” she whispered to me.

“Of course,” I said. “There won’t be that many meetings of the full council unless there’s some sort of crisis. Your biggest job will be managing the assignments of the army’s Corporalki, but even that you could delegate, if you wanted to.”

“I imagine it’s the same for David?” I nodded. “Good,” Genya continued, “because otherwise you might have trouble getting him to come to meetings.”

I stifled my laugh because we had reached the doors to the patio. We had decided that, instead of repairing the grand dining hall where Nikolai’s birthday dinner had been, we would host formal dinners outside. There was more space and it meant less resources needed to be dedicated to repairs, but most importantly, it made it easier for me to summon.

“Summon the moonlight to your hair,” Genya whispered in my ear as the guards reached to open the doors. I smiled and raised a hand, as as we emerged into the crisp evening air, the moonlight rushed to answer my call. I spun it through my hair like threads of silk, setting it all aglow. The light of its aura bathed my face in silver light, and I imagined it looked something like a halo. I realized it would probably make the diamonds in the tiara sparkle like fallen stars.

Genya’s eyes flashed with pride as we made our way to the table where Nikolai was seated, dressed in pale gold. Someone — either Genya or Nikolai himself — had planned for the future royal couple to be wearing Ravka’s colors.

It struck me suddenly that the colors of my Sun Summoner’s _kefta_ were the same as Ravka’s: blue and gold. I’d rather done myself a favor with that one. And I suspected that in the future, when I wore my golden Saint’s _kefta,_ I would see a lot more of Nikolai in blue.

Nikolai turned to look at me as I sat down next to him, and I heard his breath catch in his throat, his eyes widening ever so slightly. I blushed faintly. Genya dropped into the empty seat on my other side and poked my knee: she’d been right about the moonlight in my hair. Not that she’d ever been wrong about that sort of thing.

The rest of the people near us at the table were nobles and other people whose political support it was important for us to earn. Nikolai managed to recover and pull me into the conversation they’d been having before I’d arrived, which was about increasing Ravka’s imports and exports now that the Shadow Fold was gone. He subtly dropped hints about our plans to reform the Ravkan army, as well as several other ideas about trade and diplomacy that he had told me about on our way to Os Alta, while speaking of the wealth and luxuries that the nobles stood to gain. I caught onto what he was doing and did my best to join in. It wasn’t enough for us to trust Nikolai would inherit their allegiances; no, he had to _earn_ them.

As evening moved to night, darkness began to fall. The table was brightly lit thanks to myriad lamps and candles both on it and around it, but I still was worried about Nikolai. I held out my palm and called the light that had dipped below the horizon, summoning it into a dome that cast the whole table in gentle daylight.

There were gasps from everyone seated. Words that I had said to Tolya once, fairly recently and yet so long ago, came to mind. I smiled at the awestruck nobles.

“I’m the Sun Summoner,” I said to them. “It gets dark when I say it does.”

Once dessert had been cleared and our goodbyes said, Nikolai led me from the table back through the palace. He watched me every step of the way, and I would have been worried about getting lost in the endless hallways of gold and mirrors, but Nikolai seemed to know the Grand Palace like the back of his hand.

“You’re beautiful, Alina,” he said as we walked, arm in arm. “Do you know that?”

I snorted. “All Grisha are beautiful, Nikolai. But by our standards… Well, just remember that Zoya and Genya are the ones setting the bar.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I think you’re prettier than they are, even.”

“Yeah, right. If you say anything along the lines of ‘you have a beautiful personality,’ I _will_ kick you.”

He laughed. “I could say that, and it would be true. But I do mean your appearance, Alina. You’re beautiful in a different way from them, but you’re just as captivating.”

“That sounds like a cop-out.”

“Let me put it this way. Zoya is gorgeous and Genya is breathtaking, but you… You’re beguiling. Mesmerizing. Bewitching. Transcendent.”

“Throwing a thesaurus at me does not make your argument any more persuasive.”

“Whenever I look at you, Alina, it feels like there’s nothing else on earth that matters. There’s just something about your gaze, the way you hold yourself, it makes it impossible to look anywhere but you.”

“Improbable.”

He rolled his eyes, but then grew serious again. “It’s like you’re not of this earth. Like you were carried here by a falling star.” The smile returned. “At least that would explain where your summoning comes from.”

I smiled back at him. It wasn’t his joke. It was just the way I warmed at his words. Between the conviction in his voice, the look in his eyes, and the way he clearly knew what he was talking about, I was starting to believe him.

“And I think the other part of it is how you use it,” he continued. “Zoya made her beauty a weapon. Genya made it armor. But you? You don’t even realize you _have_ it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize that I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless.

“I think you’re beautiful, too,” I stuttered at last. I meant it.

“Ah,” Nikolai said, “but I already _knew_ that.”

We stopped at a door. Nikolai opened it and ushered the two of us into a large receiving room decorated in pale golds and sky blues. It was large enough that the overstuffed furniture, the likes of which I’d seen in the royal box at Caryeva, didn’t actually seem oversized. After spending large portions of the day on horseback or in a carriage on the bumpy Vy, I could have easily collapsed into any one of the massive sofas or armchairs, but Nikolai led me through one of the doors and into what must have been a bedroom.

I say it must have been a bedroom, because it held what must have been a bed. It was as wide as it was long, and it was longer than even Tolya was tall. It had gold bedding and a sheer gold silk canopy that hung from massive oak columns at each corner of the bed. A small mountain of pillows was stacked by the headboard, and the actual mattress was almost two feet thick.

There were several doors around the room, but the set in the far wall drew my gaze. They were solid glass, and led to a balcony with a table and chair that overlooked a shaded courtyard.

I had already been holding onto sunlight while we had been walking through the palace, but now I summoned even more of it through the windows. I inhaled and closed my eyes, letting the light play against my skin and illuminate the room around me.

I felt Nikolai’s arms wrap around me from behind.

“My father and mother had separate quarters,” he said. “You don’t have to stay in this room.”

“I do,” I said, “and I will.”

He snorted softly. It was a puff of air against my neck. “This is my room, actually. The bed’s technically only designed to hold one person, but I think we can manage.”

I laughed as I gently broke free of his arms and jumped atop the bed, spreading my arms and legs so that I landed like a starfish in the center of the mattress. I landed with a quiet _oomf,_ and my laughter only grew louder. I was still surrounded by at least a foot of bed on every side of me.

Nikolai himself chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to me. “I was considering whether or not I should move to the king’s rooms. The bed in there is even larger than this one.”

“I might get lost in it at that point,” I said as I sat up. I realized suddenly that I was still in my blue gown. I glanced down at it, nervous that I might have torn it while jumping on the bed, but it seemed fine.

“I’m sure I can loan you something,” Nikolai said, noting my glance. He got up and walked to one of the doors, opening it to reveal a huge dressing room with half a dozen wardrobes, a vanity, three full size mirrors, a folding screen, and a small bench with several pairs of freshly polished shoes. He found a comically oversized shirt and pair of pants for me, which I put on in the dressing room while he changed in the bedroom.

I entered the bedroom cautiously, only to find him already in the bed, staring pensively at the ceiling. He wordlessly pulled back the covers on the other side and I slipped in beside him. He exhaled gently, and I moved closer to him.

“You once told me, Alina, that you found me a little creepy,” Nikolai said. He was still staring at the ceiling. “Not long after you first found out who I was. The same day I first kissed you and you kicked me. You said I changed personalities the way other people change hats.”

I was quiet for several moments.

“I asked you if you were ever just yourself,” I said.

“And I told you no.”

I lay on my side, watching him. “I don’t think I understood, then. But I think I understand a little better now. There’s the Saint, there’s the Sun Summoner, there’s the fiancée of the future king, and there’s me, the me that only you and the others see. I can imagine that if I had to live like that for years, I would get good at switching between them.”

“That doesn’t make it any less creepy, does it?” he said. He still hadn’t moved.

“What I think I was getting at,” I said slowly, “is that I wanted to know who you were. Each personality you wore was like a mask, and I wanted to see your face.”

“It is a very nice face,” he said. “I can see why you’d want to meet it.”

I smiled at the humor, although Nikolai himself didn’t.

“I wanted to know you better,” I said. “I think I know you better now. And I think I know who you are. I think I know what the face behind the mask is.”

Nikolai finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling and turned to face me. His eyes met my own and, after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out to place a hand on my cheek.

I blushed, though whether it was from his touch or from the words I was about to say, I didn’t know. I couldn’t quite bring myself to say what I wanted to yet, so I started with a story instead.

“We were at a party at the home of some noble or other, and I went out into the garden, and you tried to talk me into staying by telling me about how you didn’t like it, either. I ended up heading down into the garden, but I looked back up at you. And I saw you, then. You were just a lonely boy who didn’t want to go back to the party by himself.

“So I think… I think you’re yourself when you’re alone… And I think you’re yourself when you’re with me.”

I leaned my head forwards, placing my forehead against his. His hand moved from my face to the back of my neck, wrapping around me and pulling me closer.

“That’s when you stop hiding what you feel,” I said. “You can finally be vulnerable, which you’re usually so afraid to be. And when you’re being charming, you’re not doing it to hide something or to try to get your way, you’re just doing it because you _are_ charming. Because _you,_ Nikolai, are very funny and very clever and you really like saying things that make other people laugh.”

“You really put a lot of weight on my shoulders to follow that up with a very funny and very clever comment,” he said. “But I’m afraid that I’m too flattered by your high opinion of me and too distracted by your presence to actually provide one.”

I smiled. “Have I ever told you my nickname for you?”

“You mean Prince Perfect? Because that one’s not true. I’m not really a prince anymore. But I’m afraid King Perfect doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“If I recall, that was what Mal called you,” I said. “As for what _I_ call you… I’ve always thought of you as the too-clever fox.”

Those hazel eyes blinked.

“Of all my dog-focused nicknames,” he said, “I think that one’s my favorite. But the fox in the story is quite ugly, so I’m not sure I can endorse it.”

“I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with you there.”

“I always appreciate your honesty, Alina,” Nikolai said with a grin. Then the grin softened into a smile.

“I think that’s why I fell for you, actually,” he said softly. “You were honest. You didn’t hide how you felt about anything. It was just one hundred percent authentic Alina, one hundred percent of the time. You were yourself, when I’ve so rarely been able to meet people like that. Everyone has either been trying to impress me or use me or dismiss me as a bastard. But you just wanted to be my friend. You valued me for what I could do, and not for who I was.”

“And I kicked you,” I said.

“And you kicked me. You know you’re basically the only Ravkan who has ever felt comfortable with causing me physical pain? That in and of itself was refreshing.”

I jabbed him in the ribs, and he rolled over, laughing and clutching his side where I’d poked him.

“There’s the Alina I know and love,” he said when he’d recovered his breath. He rolled back towards me and folded me into his arms.

We whispered back and forth for a while. I don’t know who drifted off first. He didn’t have a single nightmare the whole night.

But I still held him, and I still kept my light on. All through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Nikolina we trust.  
> Well, this has been one wild ride. I hope y'all loved it as much as I did. A total of over 50,000 words in just over a month... I guess it was a sort of accidental NaNaWriMo.  
> I really love all of you guys who have read and left kudos and comments. All of you guys are real human beings who read this word vomit and thought 'wow, this is actually coherent.' You couldn't make me happier if you tried. I don't regret a single hour of sleep I lost to this writing.  
> This was my first fic, and I really learned a lot (namely: do not let me write dialogue). I have some ideas for the future, if anyone wants to see them. I could write a sequel fic to this one with the coronation, wedding, and other fun stuff. I also have another 6 or 7 ideas I'd like to try. And of course, I should eventually get back to my novel draft. Or my actual life. Priorities have never been my strong suit.  
> So this is goodbye for now. I'll leave you with the link to my favorite rendition of _Ar Hyd Y Nos_ since it seems appropriate. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiB3zmvFPkw  
> Ond i harddu dyn a'i hwyrddydd, rhown ein golau gwan i'n gilydd, ar hyd y nos.


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